It's Not Enough
by Hawk
Summary: Deviates from Vol 9 of the manga just before 'The clothespin incident'. In this fic, Keitaro never gets his hands on those damnable pins and things diverges from canon there. Very dark:ish fic, compared to my other Love Hina fics...
1. One

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawk@yahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
*emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers*  
/thoughts/  
*/telepathy/*  
~translation~  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+  
  


*** Author Rant ***

  
  
Okay, first a warning. This fic will not be done in the same vein as most of my other Love Hina fics you can find here on fanfiction.net ( or wherever the heck you're reading this... ).  
  
They are written in what I refer to as my Hawk Light style. Though the shit occasionally hits the fan and hints of some real world grit creeps in, I still try to keep them somewhat close to the original happy-go-lucky style of the Love Hina anime and/or manga.  
  
This is vastly different from my usual style, which can get pretty darn dark'n twisted at times, involving vast amounts of deaths, graphic sex scenes, murderers as the main characters, detailed descriptions of rape, violence, insanity and whatnot. The Hawk-style, if you will. If I wrote Love Hina Hawk-style, it would hardly even be recognisable as Love Hina any longer.  
  
Since fanfiction.net doesn't have NC-17 fics any longer, but I wanted this fic to be more serious then my Hawk Light fics, I'll try to curb some of my demented ways and invent yet another writing style, Hawk Medium Rare. This'll be closer to the 'real' Hawk-style, then the sugarcoated Hawk Light you're probably used to seeing in my Love Hina fics.  
  
As such, this fic deserves the [R]-rating. *Really* deserves it. If that doesn't rock your boat, stop reading here. If you do keep on reading, there'll be angst, there'll be sex during a mental and emotional break-down, there'll be violence ( Though why I'm warning against that, I'll never know, since violence is an integral part to both anime and manga. If that disturbed you, you wouldn't be cruising for Love Hina fanfiction... ), probably a bit of swearing and possibly a few other disturbing things that might not go over well in sensitive minds.  
  
You, have been warned.  
  
- Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
AKA The Crazy Swede,  
AKA The Deviant Viking,  
AKA Lord of Perverts,  
AKA Assistant StoryTeller In Charge Of Smut on various online White Wolf RPG's.  
  


*** Rant Over ***

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter One:

  
  
"Don't be so nice to me..." Motoko sniffled, which Keitaro only absentmindedly registered. He was all too focused on just how silky-smooth her hair felt against his hand.  
  
"Huh?" he intelligently responded, marvelling at the luster, colour and sensation of those raven-coloured strands of hair. That was why he was taken so completely off-guard, when she suddenly launched herself at him, barrelling into his chest with enough force to knock him off his feet and land flat on his arse.  
  
She sobbed and sniffled against his chest, tears wetting the T-shirt he was wearing.  
  
"What should I do?! You... You... You... Kei... Keitaro... I... I..." she stuttered, nuzzling against his chest like an oversized kitten.  
  
/Waaaa! What?! Whah? Who? Why? When? Waaaa!/ Keitaro couldn't complete even a mental sentence, so surprised was he by Motoko's uncharacteristic behaviour. What few scraps of intelligence that hadn't already left him because of it, were being distracted by the fact that he could feel her breasts mashed up against his stomach through the T-shirt he was wearing and the borrowed shirt Motoko was wearing. The pain in his leg was forgotten, all he could focus on was the girl sobbing against him.  
  
/She's even cuter like this, even more beautiful... So vulnerable... I can't believe that I've *ever* referred to her as unfeminine. Right now, she's got Naru dead to rights. She's lovely... She's trembling... I shouldn't be thinking like this... Breasts, gah! Nipples, woh! Heart beating... So fast! I want to just wrap my arms around her, cradle her against me... Even though she's taller then me, stronger then me, more dangerous then me... I want to protect her... I want to hold her... She's precious to me, I want... I want.../ he rambled on in his mind, before blinking.  
  
/What I want would be taking advantage of her in her time of weakness./ he realised, gulping as he realised just what might have come to pass if he'd given in to temptation. /My funeral!/ He looked around and spotted a basket of clothespins. Shinobu had let him know that there were running out, after he'd accidentally broken a few dozen during a very hard landing after a Naru-punch. He'd bought new ones, but hadn't given them to Shinobu yet. Which he was now very grateful for, as they would serve as an ample distraction. /Perhaps the pain will clear my mind.../ Keitaro reasoned as he reached out for them.  
  
His hand never reached the basket though, as Motoko suddenly crawled even closer and knocked him off balance again. He tumbled to the floor, she falling along with him, stretching out across his body. She clung to him like a wet blanket, moulding herself against his body and he blushed furiously as a certain appendage of his was suddenly mashed between their two bodies.  
  
Her hands started to roam and he felt himself starting to loose all sense of himself again. He desperately reached out for those clothespins, when his hand suddenly refused to cooperate with him. Motoko had pulled herself a little further up his body and he went stiff with surprise and arousal, as well as complete and utter surprise, as she suddenly kissed his neck. He didn't move for several seconds, as she scattered several soft kisses against his neck and throat.  
  
He swallowed nervously, then found himself giving in to the situation. His hand moved away from the basket and tangled itself in the wealth of hair at the back of Motoko's neck. His other hand hesitantly went up to her back, caressing and stroking it. Ordinarily, such an action would have been met by some manner of violence, but now all the response he got was a pleased humming as he was kissed in the hollow of his throat.  
  
Motoko suddenly pulled herself up even further, the appendage currently lodged between their bodies approving whole-heartedly of the sudden unexpected friction. Keitaro's field of vision was suddenly filled with a teary-eyed Motoko, something in her gaze which he'd never seen there before. Something he couldn't identify, along with a plethora of other things which he did recognise.  
  
Fear... Uncertainty... Curiosity... Sadness... Despair... Bewilderment... Confusion... Shame... Disgust...  
  
/This is a bad idea!/ he realised. /Gotta stop this before it gets even more out of hand. Motoko is in a really bad place right now. If I don't get the situation under control, it's going to... WOHA!/  
  
The kiss was a desperate one, a frenzied one. There was no love, no compassion. It wasn't shared between them, it was taken from him, inflicted upon him. He opened his mouth to protest and got a mouthful of Motoko's tongue for his effort. Her tears splattered down on his face, on his glasses. Her whimpers and muffled sobs went directly into his mouth as she ravaged it, claimed it.  
  
/Bad... This is bad, very *bad*! Gotta... Gotta stop her, gotta stop... Stop... Stop... Gotta.../ he reasoned, feeling his mind fog up with confusion and lust. /This is... Good... Gotta stop trying to stop her.../ he thought as his more noble aspirations were crushed underneath an ever growing amount of lust and arousal. He was a twenty-year old virgin, all the repressed desires and frustrations acquired during his teenage years were now upon him with a vengeance, clouding his judgement, obscuring whatever he may have desired before now.  
  
Now, all that existed were the two of them. As the last shreds of reasoning left Keitaro's mind, his own tears of regret joined Motoko's as the young man and even younger woman succumbed and surrendered to inevitability.  
  
Motoko moaned, lost in a tsunami of conflicting and confusing emotions. All she knew was that she had felt utterly miserable, but that she didn't any longer. All those emotions, all those desires she'd been repressing, beating into submission ever since she reached puberty, were upon her. Feelings of shame and disgust at herself, at her loss, had torn at her heart. She'd never felt so miserable in her entire life, but she'd found a way to make it stop. As she kissed Keitaro, all of that went away, all of it was held at bay.  
  
She knew that what they did was wrong, knew that she was merely running from her fears, running from her defeat. She was being a coward, but she couldn't help herself. Reality was too horrible to face at the moment, reality was too scary an opponent for her to face. So, she ran. She tried to escape. She tried to forget, forget herself in Keitaro.  
  
She was a failure, a miserable wretch. All that existed were her and Keitaro. She wanted to forget herself, so all that remained were Keitaro. All that she could focus on was Keitaro. Her failure didn't matter. Her tears were of no consequence. Her defeat didn't exist. All that mattered was him.  
  
Keitaro...  
  
She didn't realise that she said his name out loud, moaning it against his lips, into his mouth. He moaned in response and she felt how she was consumed by him, how being with him kept the horrors of her world away.  
  
But as she thought of them, she could feel them getting closer, creeping up on her. She could feel faint traces of them and it made her cringe. She couldn't face that, not again! Not now! /It's not enough... Not enough!/ she mentally whimpered. /It's not enough!/ she thought in panic, then wiggled her right hand out from underneath Keitaro. She grabbed the collar of the shirt she'd borrowed and yanked with all her might. She absently heard ripping, heard buttons falling onto the floor. She moved her grip a little lower and pulled again, yanking out the last couple of buttons.  
  
But Keitaro still wore too much. Her hand found the hilt of her sword, or rather, what little remained of it. Her tears flowed faster as she pulled away from him for a split second, then grabbed his collar and hastily made a cut. He whimpered at the loss of her lips, then gasped in pain as her own obscured vision and raging emotions made the cut sloppy and Keitaro acquired what would probably become yet another scar in time. The cut wasn't deep, the wound wasn't serious. She didn't care though, she merely yanked his T-shirt out from his pants and cut through it all the way down, before she pushed it aside and threw her broken sword over her shoulder.  
  
She slid down his body, straddling his legs as she dipped down, her tongue lapping at the bleeding wound on his stomach and lower part of his chest. She licked up the blood and she kissed the wound all better. Her nails raked over his ribcage and her tears washed over him. His hands were roaming everywhere on her they could reach, before he finally grasped her shoulders and hoisted her back up.  
  
Lips met again and both parties moaned as naked chest met up with naked chest.  
  
Motoko grunted as Keitaro suddenly rolled them over and her back slammed against the ground. His body now rested on top of hers, grinding against her. She didn't mind. Her legs wrapped around him, her arms pulling him against her as she desperately tried to meld herself into his body, trying to get rid of herself by joining with him. Perhaps then, she wouldn't be able to feel any longer. Perhaps then, the pain would go away forever. Perhaps then, she wouldn't have to face an uncertain future, not as a warrior, but as an ordinary girl.  
  
Motoko could imagine no fate more horrible then that!  
  
She had been a warrior all her life. It was what she had been born as, it was what she had trained to be and it was what she had become. Not being one any longer...  
  
Motoko couldn't face that! Motoko didn't want to live through that!  
  
She shuddered as the outside world once again started to intrude on the edges of her awareness. /It's still not enough, not nearly enough!/ she mentally wailed, then released the death-grip she had on Keitaro, her hands moving lower. Those stupid shorts of his and her panties were in the way. She had to get rid of them! She fumbled with his shorts, eventually resorting to yanking again. The button went flying and the zipper was forced open, then she pushed the shorts down along with whatever underwear he was wearing. She didn't care, whatever it was, it was in the way and had to be gotten rid of.  
  
Keitaro moaned his approval of her actions, one of his hands moving down to return the favour with her panties, which were mercilessly pushed down as she accommodated him by pushing herself off the ground for a second. She groaned as she realised that she should have kept the sword close at hand, they would have to break off contact for a while to rid themselves of their stupid clothes. She couldn't open her legs wide enough with her panties hanging mid-thigh and Keitaro had his shorts and underwear in a similar position.  
  
She rolled them over again, half a lap, so that they were lying side to side. She hastily pushed her panties down, kicking them off with hasty, nearly panicked motions. As the sensations she were so desperately trying to avoid started to intrude again, she decided to ignore the fact that Keitaro hadn't rid himself of his clothes when given the opportunity, opting instead to fondle her breasts. It didn't matter.  
  
She rolled him over half a lap again until he was resting on his back, then straddled him. Her hymen had broke years ago, during the course of her training, but she knew that it'd still hurt like hell. Their lips mashed together as she reached a hand down to feel herself. She was moist, but probably not enough. She had no experience in such matters, but didn't care. She didn't have the luxury of time to learn or even the time to improve matters in the wetness department. /It's not enough!/ she wailed and impaled herself on Keitaro.  
  
She muffled her scream of pain by screaming into his mouth, the flow of tears increasing yet again. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she forced her body to move, forced herself to continue the coupling. /It wasn't enough! It wasn't enough!/  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	2. Two

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawk@yahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
*emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers*  
/thoughts/  
*/telepathy/*  
~translation~  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+  
  


*** Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' ***

  
  
She rolled him over half a lap again until he was resting on his back, then straddled him. Her hymen had broke years ago, during the course of her training, but she knew that it'd still hurt like hell. Their lips mashed together as she reached a hand down to feel herself. She was moist, but probably not enough. She had no experience in such matters, but didn't care. She didn't have the luxury of time to learn or even the time to improve matters in the wetness department. /It's not enough!/ she mentally wailed and impaled herself on Keitaro.  
  
She muffled her scream of pain by screaming into his mouth, the flow of tears increasing yet again. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she forced her body to move, forced herself to continue the coupling. /It wasn't enough! It wasn't enough!/  
  


*** Roll credits ***

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter Two:

  
  
"Oh, Kami-sama..." Keitaro grunted as he regained consciousness, his mind awhirl with conflicting emotions, mental images of things that were just plain impossible and sensations of pain. His right hand moved down to his crotch, where he gingerly touched himself with a wince and a muted exclamation of pain. "Ouch..." escaped his lips as he hastily removed the hand.  
  
Had he been masturbating himself to sleep again? Being the sole male in a female dorm gave him more then ample mental fodder for his stroking sessions, but with how sore he felt, last nights session must have been exceptional even by his standards. He sniffed and his eyes bulged. His room *reeked*, he was covered in sweat and... /I'm not in my futon? I'm wearing... Well, sorta wearing... Clothes?/  
  
His hand roamed, fingering the torn T-shirt he appeared to be wearing and he could feel his boxers and shorts bundled up around his ankles. /What the heck?/ he thought as he fingered the T-shirt. He'd recalled the same thing from that weird dream he'd had about Mo... He blinked as his sleep-addled mind started registering other things.  
  
He couldn't move his left arm.  
  
This was because something was weighing it down.  
  
He gulped, then slowly and cautiously started turning his head to his left as he opened his eyes. His vision was good, so he had apparently fell asleep wearing his glasses. His breath, his very heart, stopped for a couple of seconds as he spotted Motoko sleeping beside him. He gasped, as breathing and heartbeat resumed, his mouth working, but no sounds emerging from it.  
  
/It... It wasn't... I wasn't dreaming.../ he thought in a blend of fear of Motoko's reaction when she woke up, disappointment at himself for the loss of control and stunned surprise as he realised that he was a virgin no longer.  
  
He just looked at Motoko for a while. They were both more or less naked, spawled across the floor of his room. She was curled up in a near fetal position, her head resting on his left arm. Her face was scrounged up, beads of sweat slowly trailing down her forehead and she twitched in her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming about, wasn't pleasant.  
  
There was blood on the floor, blood on him, blood on her. His groin, his legs, the floor, her legs and her groin, all were caked with a mixture of dried fluids.  
  
"Oh, Kami-sama... What have we done?" he murmured, putting his right hand on his forehead. This was not how he had expected to loose his virginity. This was not with whom he had expected to loose his virginity.  
  
/NARU!/ he thought in panic, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. /Oh, shit! Naru!/ Paralysed with fear, Keitaro stiffened and couldn't move a muscle as his entire body locked up on him.  
  


* * *

  
  
"No... No... No. No. No!" Motoko cried out, her eyes snapping open as she vehemently shouted out her denial. As they did, she caught sight of something she definitively hadn't expected to see first thing in the morning. /Keitaro./ He was lying beside her, staring at her with his eyes wide open and a terrified expression on his face.  
  
She blinked in surprise at first as her sleep-riddled brain attempted to make sense of things, then she felt rage as her mind started to catch up with things, more rage then she'd ever felt before. She had known that he was a pervert, but this just took the cake! He had actually dared to get into her futon with her? What had he done while she was asleep? Was she still... Untouched?  
  
"*URASHIMA*! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?! YOU PERVERT!!!!!" she raged, bounced up, pulling him up with her, before a punch worthy of Naru launched him through the room, through the wall and away from Hinata Sou.  
  
Only then did she notice that she wasn't lying in her futon. She hadn't been lying in anybody's futon. She wasn't even in her room. She was in Keitaro's room. She stared in bewildered befuddlement around, before her eyes landed on her own broken sword and the maid uniform she'd borrowed from Kitsune, hanging out to dry.  
  
"Oh..." she mumbled to herself in a broken voice, then winced as pain struck her. She crumbled to the ground and gasped, then reached down with her right hand and touched her nether regions. She twitched as it was confirmed that there was indeed where she had hurt herself. As she discovered that, she also recalled the events of yesterday. "Oh..." she mumbled again, then heard movement from above. She yelped under her breath, then dove towards her maid uniform, throwing off the shirt in the air, mid-jump.  
  
She slipped into her now dry borrowed uniform in record speed, then glared around the room with panic in her eyes. Her gaze hastily locked upon Keitaro's bookshelf and she yanked with all her might, tipping it over so that it fell over right where they had been lying, right where dried blood and semen would have revealed just what had been going on to anyone who saw it. She caught sight of a bottle of after shave and hastily smashed it against the floor, drenching the room in its nearly sickeningly strong scent.  
  
"Motoko? Keitaro?" Naru called from above and Motoko could hear how the other girl hastily moved towards the board that covered the hole between the rooms. She hastily straightened the uniform, trying to come up with something to say, something to do.  
  
Naru dropped down into the room clad in her jammies, fists clenched and with an angry expression on her face, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Her gaze locked onto Motoko, then went to the hole in the wall. She instantly relaxed.  
  
"What did that stupid pervert do this time?" she inquired.  
  
"Ah... Actually..." Motoko stuttered as Naru walked closer, then Naru's eyes widened as she got a better look at Motoko.  
  
"Ah! Motoko! You look like shi... Eh... Did he... Did... What happened?!" Naru demanded.  
  
"Eh... Actually... I may have... Made a horrible mistake..." Motoko muttered. "I was... Ahhh... Distraught after hearing you guys talk about me yesterday and ran. Keitaro found me out in the rain and brought me back. He... I... He treated me to some hot chocolate and... We must have fallen asleep." Motoko explained, then looked down at the floor. "When I woke up and saw him... I... There... I... I overreacted." she mumbled, shivered and hugged herself. "A horrible mistake..." she repeated, then her legs couldn't support her any longer. She crumbled to the ground, kneeling and shivering. Tears streamed down her cheeks and Motoko was powerless to stop them. "A horrible mistake!" she wailed.  
  
"Hey." Naru exclaimed, surprised at the exceptionally strong reaction from Motoko. "It's okay. It's okay..." she cooed, kneeling beside her friend and enveloping her in a comforting hug. "It's okay, Motoko. He never holds a grudge, you know that. He'll forgive you, just as he always does. You'll see. It'll be okay." Naru continued, as Motoko continued to sob, wail and cry her heart out for another half a minute, all the while muttering about her 'horrible mistake'.  
  
Then it was as if someone had turned off a switch. Naru blinked in surprise as Motoko just suddenly stopped. The near-frantic hug was relaxed, the sobbing stopped, Motoko pulled Naru into a standing position and Motoko then took several steps back. She wiped away tears from her eyes with the back of her right hand in a very unlady-like fashion, though her cheeks were still wet.  
  
"I apologise for my shameful behaviour just now and the ruckus which woke you up earlier, Narusegawa-sempai." Motoko stated blankly, desperately struggling to show up an unaffected exterior, despite her inner turmoil. "Please, leave this mess to me. I shall retreat to change into more appropriate attire, then return to clean up as a way to make amends to Urashima for my unwarranted actions." she continued, inwardly wincing at her words. /Unwarranted actions? Is that what we call rape these days?/ she absently reflected.  
  
She wasn't lying, she told herself. Not really... She just didn't chose to divulge everything or elaborate upon her words.  
  
"Well... If you are sure..." Naru replied after a few moments in which she'd silently observed her formerly crying friend. Something was wrong, that much was obvious. Ordinarily, Motoko would never offer to clean up for Keitaro. She'd never apologise.  
  
Had something... Happened... Between Keitaro and Motoko last night?  
  
'He treated me to some hot chocolate and...'  
  
/And what?/ Naru reflected. She knew first-hand what a pervert Keitaro could be. But if he'd tried something with Motoko, surely she would have heard it? Surely, he would have been launched from the building last night, instead of this morning?  
  
Unless...  
  
Perhaps Motoko wouldn't mind Keitaro being a little perverted? Just a little?  
  
Naru wasn't stupid. She had seen how the others occasionally behaved around Keitaro. Kitsune was the most open about it, she'd outright pursued him before she found out that he wasn't attending Todai. She had lessened her efforts after the gig was up, but she'd never entirely stopped. Naru didn't know if it was all teasing or not, but she suspected that Kitsune's behaviour might not be entirely motivated by her need for amusement. She suspected that Kitsune was honestly fond of Keitaro. Perhaps she didn't love him, but Naru had seen her older friend pursue other guys for less then 'honestly fond of'.  
  
Shinobu was obvious, of course. The younger girl had a serious crush. She was head over heels in love with Keitaro, or at least, what she believed to be love. Naru suspected that Shinobu was too young to know what love really was. Heck, she herself was too young to really know. That was why it was so hard to deal with Keitaro. But, it was at the very least a major crush, but the younger girl was too timid, too nervous to do anything about it.  
  
Where Kitsune was the most open, Kaolla was a mystery, plain and simple. Naru knew that the young girl had a good head on her shoulders, but with the way she behaved, it was occasionally hard to remember that. But she had never seen the young girl as happy as she had been since Keitaro arrived. She didn't know if it was a crush, like with Shinobu, but the hyper little girl certainly did love Keitaro. Naru just didn't know what the nature of that love was.  
  
Motoko was always the first to deny any attachment to Keitaro whatsoever, but Naru had observed her. She had seen how Motoko would occasionally blush while looking at Keitaro, how she suddenly seemed particularly vulnerable and uncertain whenever Keitaro was near. How she would blush when Keitaro's name came up in conversations when he wasn't even present. Naru found that suspicious, because she knew that this was precisely how she herself acted at times.  
  
While she was never late to protest and punish Keitaro for his inappropriate behaviour, there were times when it took her a few moments to remember that she was supposed to be angry at his behaviour, not feeling hot and bothered, wanting for him to touch her more!  
  
So if Motoko was acting in the same manner, did that mean... Naru banished those thoughts from her mind. /Impossible./ Motoko had no interest in men and even less interest in Keitaro. The very notion that she might have done something with Keitaro last night was ridiculous.  
  
"Are you certain that you don't want any help cleaning up?" Naru inquired, looking around the room while wrinkling her nose. The room reeked of Keitaro's after-shave and she saw shards of glass on the floor, a bottle had obviously been broken. The scent of him was nearly overwhelming and Naru found herself growing hot, hot and bothered. She suppressed a blush.  
  
"I am certain, Naru-sempai." Motoko assured her and Naru nodded, then carefully walked out of the room, looking down to avoid stepping on broken glass on her way out.  
  
The moment the door slid close, Motoko slowly slumped and crumbled to her knees. She bent down low over her own legs and hugged herself, trying to prevent tears from emerging yet again.  
  
What had she done? What had she done?!  
  
"No... No... No... No... No..." she repeated to herself under her breath, trembling and shivering as she recalled the events of yesternight, as much of it as she could remember. The images were a bit hazy and she couldn't remember all of it, but what she could remember...  
  
Her resolve cracked and tears started flowing yet again.  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	3. Three

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawk@yahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
*emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers*  
/thoughts/  
*/telepathy/*  
~translation~  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+  
  


*** Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' ***

  
  
The moment the door slid close, Motoko slowly slumped and crumbled to her knees. She bent down low over her own legs and hugged herself, trying to prevent tears from emerging yet again.  
  
What had she done? What had she done?!  
  
"No... No... No... No... No..." she repeated to herself under her breath, trembling and shivering as she recalled the events of yesternight, as much of it as she could remember. The images were a bit hazy and she couldn't remember all of it, but what she could remember...  
  
Her resolve cracked and tears started flowing yet again.  
  


*** Roll credits ***

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter Three:

  
  
"Owie..." Keitaro whimpered and slowly curled up into a fetal position.  
  
"Geeze, man! Are you all right?" a concerned voice inquired. "What were you doing up on that roof in those rags?"  
  
"M'okay." Keitaro grunted out in response. "M'okay..." he repeated. It wasn't the first time once of his impromptu flights had stopped in a populated area. But no matter how often it happened, it never got any easier comming up with excuses. Thankfully, this time the one who found him had come up with half of one on his own. That would make things easier.  
  
He wondered if the girls knew just how close they had come to being arrested on several occations as his excuses for dropping out of the skies hadn't sounded believable enough, cases in which EMT's and police had been called to the scene.  
  
"I'll call an ambulance." the voice continued, which spurred Keitaro into action. "Hey, no, stay down! You might have broken your neck."  
  
/No, that doesn't feel like this.../ Keitaro thought as he slowly and painfully got up onto his feet, hunched over and in severe pain. It felt like a couple of ribs had been cracked again.  
  
"Naw, I'm okay." Keitaro lied, plastered a fake smile on his lips and stood up straight, supressing a vince as his ribs protested. "Nothing that a warm bath and some rest won't take the edge of. My doctor can have a look at me tomorrow."  
  
/Yeah, as if I'd ever dare go see one of those after something like this. They'd lock me up in a research laboratory and I'd never see the light of day again./ he thought with a faint shudder.  
  
"Thanks for the concern, though. But I'll pull through." Keitaro insisted, bowing and scraping until the concerned man gave up and started walking down the street again.  
  
Keitaro exhaled with relief, looked around and oriented himself to identify just where he was and then set off towards the nearest store he knew would let him in. He bent down and retreived a sturdy textile pouch strapped to his right ankle, opened it and removed a plastic bag from it, pulling out some fresh yen from it before he returned it to it's place at his ankle.  
  
He spent more money on clothes, then anything else these days and never knew just when he might need some cash to pay for replacement clothes, so he'd taken to wearing an emergency stash of money at all times.  
  
Thankfully enough, Taro was at the counter as opposed to his big sister Miyu. Taro was cool about Keitaro's frequent disheveled appearances and emergency garment purchases, but Miyu always made such a big fuss about it. Not to forget that she teased the heck out of him, every chance she got. Taro merely shook his head, accepted the cash and gave Keitaro his change back after Keitaro returned from the changing room, handing Taro the price tags from the clothes he was already wearing.  
  
"You really are something." Taro commented as Keitaro threw his destroyed clothes in the trash. "I think the boss is considering making you customer of the year." he added and Keitaro responded with a sheepish smile, trying to maintain the happy facade while he was inwardly drowning in mental turmoil.  
  
"If it's all the same to you guys, I'd rather not." Keitaro responded and bid Taro good-bye before he hastily removed himself from the store. He briefly considered returning to the Hinata Sou straight away, but decided against it. Instead, he headed for a tea-shop nearby and paid for a cup of tea. He could have gotten one for free at Aunt Haruka's place, but he wanted to be alone for a while.  
  
/I'm not a virgin./  
  
/That's because I've had sex./  
  
/Last night./  
  
/I'm not a virgin anymore./  
  
/That's because I've had sex now./  
  
/With Motoko./  
  
/I'm a dead man./  
  
He sighed and sipped from his tea, trying to recall as much as possible of last night and the weird turn of events that now weighed heavily upon his mind. He fingered the clotted blood over the wound on his chest through his new T-Shirt. Minor injuries like that were usually healed after this much time had passed. This appeared to be one of those weird cases when the injuries stuck around for longer then usual. He did not know why that happened with some of them. Perhaps this one would even leave a lasting scar.  
  
He gingerly touched his ribs. They appeared to be on the mend as usual, the pain had already faded into the background. His head still hurt, but he'd been through worse. He would likely not suffer any lasting damages from his last jaunt through Hinata air-space. Not physical ones, at any rate.  
  
While being accused of being a pervert and instant violence had been what he expected from Motoko once she woke up, it still hurt. Last night, they had been so close and now...  
  
He slapped himself and took another sip from his tea. His mind wasn't where it was supposed to be.  
  
He shouldn't be worrying about himself, he should be thinking of Motoko. Considering the mess she had been last night, she was likely even more of a mess right now. He stared down into his tea, wondering if he should return and seek her out, or give her some space in which to calm down.  
  
But...  
  
She had been awfully down and he wouldn't kid himself into believing that last night had been something she had wanted, so she was probably feeling all the more awful now. But, was she down enough to do something... Drastic?  
  
It scared him how little he really knew about Motoko. He knew a lot about her Martial Arts proficiency and knew her special attacks intimately, but there was precious little he knew about the girl behind the Martial Arts.  
  
He knew that she was an early riser on schooldays, but liked to spend sunday mornings snoozing in bed. A fact that had cost him a beating the first time he'd strolled into her room to deliver laundry, thinking that she was spending the morning up on the roof training as usual and instead stumbled to the floor as he saw Motoko in her futon. She had thrown off her cover during her sleep and was wearing a worn T-Shirt that had hiked up significantly, revealing a whole lotta naked flesh and a pair of white cotton panties.  
  
He knew that while she loudly and prodly proclaimed her love for historic drama novels, she secretly read Azumanga Daioh with a fervor that rivaled his and Naru's most intense study sessions. A fact which had cost him yet another beating, as he accidentally walked in on her another sunday, not having learned his lesson the first time.  
  
He knew that she advocated simple, healthy food, but had observed that she seemed to like Shinobu's more elaborate delicatessen just as much as the rest of them, perhaps even somewhat more then the others.  
  
He now knew that she had an older sister. He was now aware that she had a mole on her left butt cheek that wasn't visible when she was wearing panties. He knew that she detested foreign music. He knew that she was afraid of turtles.  
  
He knew the sounds she made as she rode him like a woman possessed, fucking his brains out.  
  
Keitaro shook his head to clear his mind, then drained his cup of tea.  
  
Perhaps returning to the Hinata Sou wasn't the smartest of things to do, but he couldn't stay away any longer. He needed to return.  
  
He needed... To see Motoko.  
  


* * *

  
  
Of course, seeing Motoko wasn't an easy task to acomplish when Motoko didn't want to be seen.  
  
After a timid greeting upon stumbling across her in his own room, she'd spluttered out a muted response, a mumbled apology and then scurried from the room before he could open his mouth to respond.  
  
It appeared as if she had been cleaning and repairing his room for him. The broken wall was patched up, not as well as if he'd done it himself due to his longer experience in these matters, but it would do well enough until the contractors arrived. The dent in his wooden floor, seemed to suggest that his bookcase had been turned over and further study of the item in question, confirmed the theory as that too was dented. The books were now placed in an alphabetical order, rather then his own rather haphazard system of putting used books whereever there was space for them.  
  
And for some odd reason, his room reeked of aftershave.  
  
Keitaro shrugged and turned to the pile of magazines that Motoko had dropped before leaving as he surprised her. He paled significantly as he realized the nature of some of those magazines.  
  
/Crap!/  
  
Not only had he had sex with Motoko, but now she'd also seen some of his dirty magazines!  
  
Oh, how he wished that 'Naughty Swordmaiden Minako' hadn't been one of them!  
  
Unfortunately, volume three of the five-part series was lying on top of the pile Motoko had dropped. There was no way that she could have missed it.  
  
No doubt, she now thought him even more of a pervert then before. Perhaps even, that he'd planned the events of last night. /Well, no. Perhaps not. After all, I'm still alive./  
  
He left his room in search of Motoko, only to stumble across Narusegawa who revealed that she was leaving for Kyoto. Apparently, she was supposed to have gone two days earlier, but the trip had been delayed by two of her friends becomming sick. Keitaro wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, it tore at his heart that she was leaving, without having responded in any way to his proclamation of love.  
  
On the other, it was a huge relief that she was leaving so that perhaps he might have a chance to fix the situation with Motoko before Naru returned!  
  
He stood at the door and watched as Naru left with Kitsune, who had been roped into following her to the train station. Keitaro would have liked to come with them, but him and his cast would only have slowed them down. Besides, with Naru and the largest troublemaker at the Hinata Sou gone for a while, perhaps he'd manage to talk with Motoko without interuptions or anyone overhearing just what they were going to talk about.  
  
He sighed and headed inside, hobbling towards Motoko's room.  
  


* * *

  
  
Motoko looked at the... The... The... At the object, with a look of determination in her eyes and an expression on her face that suggested that she was about to leap off a cliff towards a short, but colorful future as mashed human flesh with a side order of fresh blood and broken bones.  
  
Or even worse, kiss a turtle!  
  
Her right hand hesitantly darted out and she gingerly touched it, poking at it. With slow movements, as if it was just about to leap up and bite her in the face, she flipped to a random page and leaned forward, gazing down at the pages of 'Naughty Swordmaiden Minako' with trepidation.  
  
She blushed furiously, then shoved the magazine shut and hurled it across the room.  
  
She hadn't meant to take it. Really!  
  
But she had been so surprised when Keitaro walked in on her, holding a pile of magazines in her left arm and was staring in bewilderment at the first volume of 'Naughty Swordmaiden Minako' in her right hand. She had dropped the pile, shoved the magazine underneath the apron of her dress and then left the room like greased lightening, embarressed at having been caught looking at... What she had been looking at.  
  
She slowly crept across the room and retreived the magazine, then flipped it open and started reading the first page, just as Keitaro raised his arm to open her door from the other side...  
  
"Keeeeiiitaro!"  
  
+Twock+  
  
Fortunately, Su chose that exact moment to provide Keitaro with a distraction in the form of her tanned foot making sudden and forceful contact with his face.  
  


* * *

  
  
Keitaro sighed over a cup of tea. It had been a whole day now and he still hadn't managed to talk with Motoko. The most he'd managed to say to her was 'Good morning' and 'Motoko, do you suppose you might...' at breakfast. But as he attempted to ask if she might have some spare time later to talk with him, she rose from the table, excused herself and left the building, 'to meditate'.  
  
He didn't quite know what to make of it. She wasn't reacting at all like he'd imagined. She hadn't hit him even once! Not even as he hobbled straight into Kitsune's chest just before breakfast. Motoko had merely blanched and averted her eyes from the scene of Kitsune chuckling in bemusement, before Kitsune pushed Keitaro off and into his seat, brazenly adjusting her breasts afterwards.  
  
"You seem awfully introspective today, Keitaro. What's up?" Kitsune asked, strolling into the living room with a bottle of sake, a cup and a rolled-up magazine tucked between her left arm and ribcage. "You're even neglecting your studies. Missing Naru that much already?" she inquired with a sly grin and a knowing wink.  
  
"A little." Keitaro admitted, then sighed again, before looking speculatively at Kitsune. He would probably wind up regretting it, but he could really use some advice at the moment. "Neh, Kitsune. If I... Said something... Did something... Something I shouldn't to a girl, something I absolutely have to apologize for and try to undo. What do I do? What do I say? You're a girl, you must know *something* of what I should do in a case like this!"  
  
Kitsune gasped, her eyes opened fully and she dropped the cup, though she managed to hold on to the bottle.  
  
"You told Naru that you didn't mean it when you said that you loved her?!" Kitsune exclaimed. "Man, there is *no* good way to go about apologizing for that!" she continued, shaking her head as she plonked down in the couch next to him. She took a swag from her bottle as Keitaro contemplated weather to set her straight or let her go with her wrongful assumption. Finally, he merely shrugged and let it be. It was easier this way and besides, with what he'd done, he might just have to do what she thought he already had and retract his proclamation of love.  
  
He'd defiled Motoko. He'd have to do the right thing.  
  
"But if you've... Then that means..." Kitsune rambled on, then blinked, took another swag and then her eyes narrowed back to the usual slits. "Then that means that you, a Todai student, is free for the taking..." she mumbled to herself, then undid the top three buttons of her shirt. After a moments hesitation, she undid the fourth as well. "Neh, Keitaro..." she drawled and turned a half-lap around, curling up against him. "Tell everything and let oneechan comfort you." she urged him, wrapping an arm around him.  
  
Much to her surprise, he didn't react with his usual panic or blubbering, merely sighed and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, using it to pull her back a bit. Though he didn't push her entirely off, just enough so that they were sitting next to each other, side-by-side.  
  
"You're a good girl, 'oneechan'. Weird, but good." Keitaro commented with a wry chuckle and a shake of his head. His gaze briefly dipped to the ample cleavage she was displaying, before it focused on her face. "Why you haven't landed yourself a wealthy boyfriend yet, is quite beyond me." he added.  
  
"Yeah..." Kitsune responded, her brain working a mile a minute. Keitaro was behaving awfully strange and weirdly confident in the face of her sexuality, something he'd *never' done before. Was it possible... That he'd gotten laid?  
  
She blinked as the notion occured to her. Had this coward and the skittish Naru both did the nasty and broken up before she left? It seemed an unlikely event. Neither of the two had the guts for something like that. Motoko? Hah! Mutsumi? Well, Kitsune had to admit that it was a possibility. Mutsumi certainly seemed to have a thing for Keitaro and he was a sucker for everything in a skirt that had breasts larger then his own. If Mutsumi got her heads out of the clouds, or watermelons as the case might be, and really got to work on Keitaro, she could have him wrapped around her little finger in five minutes.  
  
Kitsune nodded to herself, wondering what to do about it. She had been prepared to loose him to Naru and bow out gracefully once again, but Mutsumi was a whole other matter. She was Konno Mitsune! She wouldn't loose a guy to that Okinawan watermelon-head without one hell of a fight!  
  
Keitaro carefully edged away from Kitsune and hurriedly left the room, as she started emitting a furious red battle aura where she was sitting on the couch, cackling madly to herself and muttering about watermelons of all things!  
  
He shook his head in bewilderment. He would never be able to understand how the female mind worked!  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	4. Four

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawk@yahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
*emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers*  
/thoughts/  
*/telepathy/*  
~translation~  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+  
  


*** Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' ***

  
  
"You're a good girl, 'oneechan'. Weird, but good." Keitaro commented with a wry chuckle and a shake of his head. His gaze briefly dipped to the ample cleavage she was displaying, before it focused on her face. "Why you haven't landed yourself a wealthy boyfriend yet, is quite beyond me." he added.  
  
"Yeah..." Kitsune responded, her brain working a mile a minute. Keitaro was behaving awfully strange and weirdly confident in the face of her sexuality, something he'd *never' done before. Was it possible... That he'd gotten laid?  
  
She blinked as the notion occurred to her. Had this coward and the skittish Naru both did the nasty and broken up before she left? It seemed an unlikely event. Neither of the two had the guts for something like that. Motoko? Hah! Mutsumi? Well, Kitsune had to admit that it was a possibility. Mutsumi certainly seemed to have a thing for Keitaro and he was a sucker for everything in a skirt that had breasts larger then his own. If Mutsumi got her heads out of the clouds, or watermelons as the case might be, and really got to work on Keitaro, she could have him wrapped around her little finger in five minutes.  
  
Kitsune nodded to herself, wondering what to do about it. She had been prepared to loose him to Naru and bow out gracefully once again, but Mutsumi was a whole other matter. She was Konno Mitsune! She wouldn't loose a guy to that Okinawan watermelon-head without one hell of a fight!  
  
Keitaro carefully edged away from Kitsune and hurriedly left the room, as she started emitting a furious red battle aura where she was sitting on the couch, cackling madly to herself and muttering about watermelons of all things!  
  
He shook his head in bewilderment. He would never be able to understand how the female mind worked!  


*** Roll credits ***

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter Four:

  
  
"Sloppy." Motoko commented herself with a strained expression on her face. Motoko cursed under her breath and lowered her sword. This was pointless. As always, thinking about Keitaro brought a slew of completely unfamiliar emotions to the forefront. She had no way of dealing with them and so, tried to ignore them as best she could.  
  
Though her best, wasn't anywhere near good enough, she had to admit.  
  
Distracted as she was, her form suffered and she found her own moves lacking in so many ways that she scared herself. If her sister had seen her now, Motoko would find herself bent over her knees receiving a solid spanking. At age seven, her form had been better then it had been just now.  
  
These emotions... These feelings... She hated them! Hated them with a passion! They made her weak! They made her loose her prized skills!  
  
This was exactly why she couldn't stand Keitaro, why she let her temper get the best of her despite her training. Thinking about Keitaro made these damnable infernal things appear! Thinking about Keitaro made her weak! So, she vented her anger and frustrations on him.  
  
And still...  
  
She shivered, staring woodenly at her bokken.  
  
Her sword was broken, her sister had declared her a woman, a warrior no longer. What was she doing with a sword, even if it was a wooden one?  
  
She tossed it aside, burying her head in her hands, sobbing her heart out.  
  
+Bonk+  
  
"Ouch."  
  
Motoko's head whipped up from her hands, a sob halted in mid-progress, making her emit an odd croaking sound as her teary gaze focused on Keitaro. He was rubbing a spot on his forehead, apparently where her carelessly tossed bokken had struck him as he walked up the stairs to the roof platform.  
  
"Urashima..." she whispered, her voice just barely audible. Her breath caught. She didn't know what to say. She had avoided him for two days, had barely spoken a word to him and refused to put herself into a position where the two of them could wind up alone.  
  
And now here they were... Alone...  
  
"Motoko..." Keitaro responded. He hadn't known what to say either and had only made a few half-hearted efforts to round her up for a talk. But now, the two of them were alone. Both of them knew that they'd have to talk about it sometime. Neither of them were ready to talk, but both of them also knew that they'd probably never be ready for a talk like the one which loomed ahead of them now anyway, so perhaps it would be better to put it behind them despite not being ready for it. "Uh... You all right?"  
  
A stupid question, but Motoko had to admit that she probably couldn't have thought of anything better if she had been in his stead. /Stupid!/ she cursed. She had no experience in matters of the heart and soul, she hadn't been ready to... Take the step that she'd taken... And she was even less ready to tackle this conversation.  
  
But she knew, *knew*, that it had been she who had forcibly taken that step, dragging Keitaro along with her. It was her doing, her fault. She owed this talk to him, she owed him an explanation.  
  
"I feel better then I deserve." Motoko morosely observed. "How are you, Urashima... San? Are you... Hurt?" she added, worried that she might have hurt him. She had been a bit... Out of control and her memory of the event was partly somewhat hazy. But she did remember drawing blood, cutting him, clawing at him and at one point, biting him.  
  
"No. I... I heal fast. I'm all right." he observed, a wry smile adorning his lips for a split second, before it vanished. "I... Uh... I'm sorry, Motoko. It's all my fault. I should... I should have stopped things before they got too far." he continued, scraping his feet on the ground, his gaze directed downwards, unable to look her into her eyes.  
  
"No..." Motoko croaked, shaking her head. It would be so easy, so *easy*, to shift the blame to him. She had a lot of experience doing that, but she didn't want to, she *couldn't*! Not this time. No, the fault was all hers this time. She had... She had raped him.  
  
"No... It wasn't your fault." Motoko stated, a little more firmly. "I was... I was in a bad place and I... I needed... I did... I... It was my fault. You are not to blame." Motoko added, shaking her head, wiping a few tears from her eyes. "I'm *so* sorry, Urashima-san. I know... I know you didn't want this... You tried to stop me, you did... I know you and Narusegawa... I know... You... You want her. Her, not me. But still I... I... I took this from you. I'm so sorry, so sorry!" she wailed.  
  
She tried to push him off, as she suddenly found herself wrapped in a comforting embrace, her head resting against his chest. But he was surprisingly strong and she was... Weak. She sunk into him, her arms hanging loosely down. She lacked the strength to push him off, she lacked the strength to embrace him in turn. All she could do, was lean into him and cry as he gently rocked her back and forth.  
  
The memory of what they had done returned with a vengeance and Motoko found the bile rising at the memory of it, at the memory of what she had done with him...  
  
No. What she had done *to* him.  
  
"No!" she protested and somehow managed to wrench herself away from him. She staggered off a few steps, then ejected the contents of her stomach with a very unladylike sound. "BleeeeeeergHHhh!" She fell to her knees, holding herself off the ground with her hands as her body ejected what little she had managed to eat and drink. She absently noted gentle hands moving in, holding her hair back, supporting her, as her own body betrayed her.  
  
Tears splattered onto the ground, mixing with the foul reeking mess she'd just puked out and she felt even more miserable. Even after what she had done, despite how awful she had treated him, Keitaro still didn't hesitate to comfort and support her. Her tears flowed even faster and she didn't even notice being pulled away from the scene of her little 'accident', nor did she notice Keitaro pulling out a hankie to wipe her mouth with.  
  
She sobbed against his chest, her hands having moved up to grasp his T-shirt. He constantly offered his unconditional support to everyone around him and how had she rewarded him for his saint-like unselfishness, for his endless generosity? With violence. With contempt. With rape. Her sobbing grew even more violent and a wail of despair escaped from her lips, making Keitaro jump at the unexpected loud sound.  
  
It also caused Shinobu, who had wandered up onto the roof to hang the laundry and thus stumbled across the unexpected scene of Motoko crying in Keitaro's arms, to drop the laundry basket.  
  
"Sempai's!" she exclaimed, scurrying closer to them. "Wha-wh-wha-wha-wha-what is going on? M-mo-Motoko-sempai, why are you crying?" she stuttered, not sure if she should be upset because Motoko was crying or because Keitaro was hugging her.  
  
"I'm a bad, *bad*, bad person, Shinobu!" Motoko wailed, then wrenched herself away from Keitaro and stumbled over to Shinobu, wrapping her arms around her. "I'm *so* sorry, Shinobu!" she continued, splattering the confused girl with tears. "I know you like him. Feh, I know you love him! And yet I... Yet I... I'm *so* sorry, Shinobu!" Motoko blubbered, while the confused youngster hesitantly wrapped her arms around Motoko, trying to comfort her.  
  
"It's okay, Motoko... It's okay..." she mumbled, wondering just what it was that Motoko was so sorry for. It appeared to have something to do with Keitaro, but what? What had she done? Whatever it was, it had upset her terribly. Shinobu was so worried about that, that she hadn't even noticed that Motoko had 'outed' Shinobu's love for Keitaro. Shinobu thought back, then recalled the event which had changed it all. Motoko was so torn up over having punched Keitaro out of the building a couple of days ago?  
  
Shinobu didn't know weather to be sad for Motoko, or happy for Keitaro. If Motoko had finally realized how unfairly she treated Keitaro and stopped hurting him all the time, she was sure that things would become much better for her beloved sempai. If that happened, it was worth the undeserved beating he received from Motoko earlier.  
  
"I know... It's all right... I forgive you..." Shinobu assured her crying friend, but didn't expect the reaction her simple words resulted in. Motoko instantly stopped crying, flinched, yanked herself out of the embrace and took several steps backwards, staring at Shinobu with shock and fear in her eyes.  
  
"Y-y-yo-you know?!" she exclaimed in a shrill voice, then her head swiveled around to glare at Keitaro. "You told?! You told everybody?!" she demanded, her hands clenching into little fists.  
  
"No!" Keitaro insisted, backing away. "I wouldn't do something like that!" he protested indignantly and Motoko had to reluctantly admit that it seemed out of character for Keitaro to have blabbed about his 'conquest', especially to the other girls of the Hinata Sou. So, whatever Shinobu thought she knew, had to be *dead* wrong.  
  
Motoko turned back to Shinobu, plastering a neutral look on her face. She was grateful for the scare, it had scared her right out of her crying spell and cleared her mind. She could think again and one thing her now cleared mind instantly realized was that it would be a *BAD* thing if the other girls found out about this before she knew what to do about the situation.  
  
"Shinobu... You can't tell anyone." Motoko insisted.  
  
"B-b-but why?" Shinobu inquired. "Isn't it a good thing that you've finally realized that it's unfair to just hit Keitaro when he hasn't done anything wrong? If the others find out, perhaps they'll stop being so mean as well..." she continued.  
  
"Uh... I don't want them to think that I've grown weak?" Motoko hesitantly responded, so hesitantly that it nearly sounded like a question. "If they find out that I was crying over something like this... Kitsune will tease me to the end of my days for it." she continued, sounding a little more sure of herself.  
  
Shinobu seemed hesitant, but had to admit that Kitsune would do just that if she found out about it. Perhaps if Motoko lead by example, things would still turn out all right?  
  
"Okay... Perhaps the others will get the idea when they see that you've stopped hitting him." Shinobu ventured, then nodded to herself. "I won't tell anyone, Motoko-sempai." she swore.  
  
"Uh, thank you, Shinobu-chan." Motoko responded, completely bewildered at how Shinobu managed to reach the odd conclusion that she had decided to stop hitting Keitaro.  
  
"Thank you, Shinobu-chan." Keitaro offered as well, then the two of them helped Shinobu hang up the laundry, then waved her off as she headed downstairs. "She... Loves me?" he asked, once she was gone.  
  
"You didn't know?" Motoko asked, a surprised note in her voice. "How could you not know?!" she demanded. "It's so obvious that the girl has a crush on you and had it from the very beginning. Even *I* could see it."  
  
"Shinobu? I never knew... ... ... Wow... ..." Keitaro mumbled to himself, then shook his head. "Never mind. Motoko. You are *not* a bad person and it's not your fault." he continued, grasping her shoulders and looking her straight into her eyes. "Do you hear me? You are not a bad person." he insisted.  
  
"But I rape..." Motoko started to protest, only to wince in pain as Keitaro's grip suddenly hardened.  
  
"No." he insisted, with such conviction in his voice that she couldn't bring herself to oppose him. "You did not rape me. It didn't happen under the best of circumstances and I regret that. But it wasn't rape. I could have stopped you, had I wanted to." Keitaro informed her, then sighed. "I regret the circumstances and would have changed that, if I could. But never think that I didn't want it, that I didn't want you or that you took something from me." he continued. "Just because I didn't agree with the color of the wrapping paper and type of bow, doesn't mean that I didn't appreciate the gift itself."  
  
"Gift? That's a laugh." Motoko snorted. "You don't want me! Don't try to fool me, Urashima. You want... You want Narusegawa." she spat out. "I'm just an obstacle, a violent uncute maniac 'Kendo-girl' who clobbers you every chance I get."  
  
"Motoko... I want... I wanted Narusegawa, that much is true. Perhaps, in a way, I still want her. I'm not sure..." Keitaro ventured, trailing off for a few seconds. "But I wanted you as well. You are a beautiful desirable woman, Motoko. Trust me, I wanted you. I was scared of you too. I'm still scared, to some degree. What happened... It wasn't because you were in need of something... Or... At least not entirely because of that. Part of the reason, was because I found myself in a position where I could no longer deny my desire."  
  
"You want... Naru *and* myself? You... You... You pervert." Motoko grumbled, but without her usual fire. After what they had done, she'd never be able to proclaim him a pervert with her usual gusto. Now she knew, she was just as much of a pervert as him. Perhaps even more so.  
  
"Want is not the same as going for, Motoko." Keitaro replied. "I wanted you. I wanted Naru. I wanted Mutsumi. I wanted Kitsune. I wanted your sister. But I only ever acted upon my want for Naru. At least until..."  
  
"Kitsune? My sis..." Motoko responded, only to fall silent mid-statement, glaring at Keitaro. "My sister?" she repeated coldly.  
  
"She's a beautiful woman, nearly as gorgeous as you are." Keitaro responded with a nervous look on his face, leaning back from Motoko's fierce glare. "Aren't there many men whom you've been interested in?" he inquired.  
  
"No! Never! There's never been anybody but yo..." Motoko began her protest rather vehemently, but trailed off as she realized just what she was saying, what she was revealing.  
  
"Me?" Keitaro squeaked, surprised at the revelation.  
  
"Never you mind, Urashima." Motoko grumbled, terribly embarrassed by that horrible slip of the tongue.  
  
"Me?" he repeated.  
  
"Just forget about it, okay?!" Motoko demanded, clenching her hands into fists again.  
  
"Me?" Keitaro repeated again.  
  
"Yes! You! Naru, Shinobu, Mutsumi, Kitsune, Su and Me. All of us! All of us are interested in you for some unfathomable reason. Never you mind that!" Motoko groused, then strained to regain some slight measure of calmness.  
  
"You... Shinobu... Mutsumi... You... Kitsune... Su... You..." Keitaro muttered, blinking his eyes several times as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. "Me?!" he exclaimed in a girlishly shrill voice.  
  
"Urashima..." Motoko growled warningly, then realized that his distraction offered her an unrivaled opportunity to sneak off. While she did realize that she owed him an explanation, she wouldn't mind putting it off a bit.  
  
She wasn't sneaking off! She wasn't running away from things! She was no coward!  
  
At least that was what she told herself as she snuck towards the stairway down.  
  
"Me?" Keitaro repeated, before his mind returned to the present and he noticed Motoko about to leave. "Uh, Motoko?"  
  
"Yes, Urashima... San?" she inquired, one foot in the air, just inches away from the first step.  
  
"Uh, there's... Well... I... Eh... We... Eh... We, really should, eh, y'know... Talk?" Keitaro stuttered out.  
  
"And we will, Urashima-san." Motoko replied. "I'll just... I'll just take a bath and then we can..." she said, then swallowed nervously before she continued. "Talk."  
  
"All right." Keitaro agreed, to nervous and skittish to do anything but agree to her suggestion.  
  
"Your room in..." Motoko started, then recalled that his room was where *the event* had taken place. "Eh, my room in, half an hour? Will that work for you, Urashima-san?" she inquired.  
  
"Yes. Thank you, Motoko." Keitaro responded, wondering just how long she were going to keep up with that 'Urashima-san' business she started with after they... He didn't like it, not one bit. He liked it better during those few occasions when he startled her or she forgot herself and just called him Urashima.  
  
"Right... Until then, then..." she responded, then hurriedly made her way down the stairs, leaving behind a very confused and nervous young man who felt as if the apocalypse was rapidly approaching and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	5. Five

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as iamhawkyahoo.com, more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at http:hawksgalaxy.com or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV

Author Notes

For some bloody stupid reason, ff.net has recently begun to insist on stripping my fics of various symbols, which I only noticed just now. This makes it a bit hard to read, as I use these symbols quite often. I'll try to get my lazy ass in gear and update my homepage some rainy day, so if it get's too annoying to suddenly have what is supposed to be sound-effects show up in the middle of spoken sentences, you can try to cruise my site in a week or two and see if I don't have uploaded versions of my fics that haven't been stripped of things which are supposed to be there.

Annoyed Author Out

Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' 

  
  
"Uh, there's... Well... I... Eh... We... Eh... We, really should, eh, y'know... Talk?" Keitaro stuttered out.  
  
"And we will, Urashima-san." Motoko replied. "I'll just... I'll just take a bath and then we can..." she said, then swallowed nervously before she continued. "Talk."  
  
"All right." Keitaro agreed, too nervous and skittish to do anything but agree to her suggestion.  
  
"Your room in..." Motoko started, then recalled that his room was where the event had taken place. "Eh, my room in, half an hour? Will that work for you, Urashima-san?" she inquired.  
  
"Yes. Thank you, Motoko." Keitaro responded, wondering just how long she were going to keep up with that 'Urashima-san' business she started with after they... He didn't like it, not one bit. He liked it better during those few occasions when he startled her or she forgot herself and just called him Urashima.  
  
"Right... Until then, then..." she responded, then hurriedly made her way down the stairs, leaving behind a very confused and nervous young man who felt as if the apocalypse was rapidly approaching and there was nothing he could do to stop it.  
  


Roll credits 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter Five:

  
  
tock tock tock  
  
"You may enter." Motoko intoned formally, though her voice cracked a bit, revealing just how nervous she was.  
  
No one, absolutely no one, was allowed to see that Aoyama Motoko was anything other then the ultimate warrior. Even if she technically wasn't allowed to be one at the moment. No one was allowed to witness her being anything other then an individual in control of herself and her emotions. Well, all right, perhaps she let her temper show now and then, but that wasn't a bad thing. Or so she kept telling herself. It was useful, it kept the perverts on their toes and ensured proper behavior around her.  
  
But she'd let Keitaro see her upset, in tears, doubting herself, frustrated and depressed...  
  
Hurting.  
  
She'd violated him, used and abused him in the most horrible of ways and for the most selfish of reasons. He'd seen her at her absolutely lowest, when she had been as far from the perfect image of the consummate warrior as she could possibly become. He'd seen a coward, a rapist and a crying miserable wretch without a single honorable bone in her body.  
  
He had seen that, experienced that and been victimized by it.  
  
And yet, shown her that he was still capable of showing her great acts of kindness, offering understanding and encouragement, giving her the courage that she needed to keep on existing in this miserable world.  
  
Keitaro had done that. Keitaro had done that for her. And for that, she owed him a debt that she doubted that she would ever be able to repay. In spite of her dishonorable actions, he still treated her like a precious friend. Motoko didn't like being indebted to anyone, least of all a man. She wasn't all that fond of knowing that she'd shown him just how fragile she really was either, shown him her vulnerabilities.  
  
Not that there were a lot of them, of course.  
  
Hardly any.  
  
Nothing worth mentioning, certainly.  
  
A mental snort at her own blustering came as a response. No matter how hard she tried to prepare herself, steel herself for this talk and rebuild her defenses, it appeared as if they would stay down. Once the walls were down, they appeared content to stay down. What had once been a construct to equal that of China's Great Wall, were but pitiful shattered shambles of their former glory. Motoko could feel tears just waiting for an opportunity to come forth. She had to bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling and if she hadn't been sitting on her legs, they would have shook from nervousity.  
  
It appeared as if the safety she longed for, behind those defenses of hers, wasn't going to come to her easily.  
  
Certainly not in time for this 'talk'.  
  
The door slid aside and Keitaro stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind him. A strained smile was plastered on his face as he made his way over to a small table and the pillow Motoko had put out in front of it, on the side opposite her. He struggled for a bit, but eventually managed to seat himself in a semi-comfortable position despite the cumbersome cast. He wasn't using both his crutches, she noticed. Instead he was walking with some sort of stick in his right hand, which for some very odd reason was wrapped in brown paper with two pieces of string tied around it. The second crutch was nowhere to be seen.  
  
He managed to hobble around on his cast with reasonable speeds, even without his crutches if need be. But it was a serious hindrance when sitting down, going to the bathroom and hundreds of other little situations he'd usually never have to think twice about before he acquired the cast.  
  
"T-tea?" Motoko inquired, then cleared her throat. "Tea, Urashima-san?" she repeated.  
  
"Yeah. Fine. Thanks." he stuttered out in reply, then watched in silence as Motoko poured them each a cup of tea with unsteady hands, just barely managing to prevent herself from making a mess of things.  
  
Keitaro slowly put the cup to his lips and sipped from the hot liquid, wondering just how to go about having this conversation with Motoko. Heck, he didn't even know where to start. He had been so focused on trying to get Motoko to talk with him, that he hadn't taken the time to ponder just how to go about the conversation. In the end, he figured that he should start with what her sister had said. Perhaps that would get her into a better mood and with a little luck, the rest of the conversation would follow naturally from there?  
  
Ha!  
  
It was unlikely, he knew, but it was worth a shot. Besides, he didn't have any better ideas and Motoko didn't appear to be about to take command of the conversation. She seemed fine with staring at the floor while sipping from her own cup.  
  
"Y-you know, I bumped into your sister before... Before... Well, before..." Keitaro started, trailing off, as he just couldn't bring herself to speak of the incident just yet. But by the way Motoko blanched, he guessed that she knew what he was talking about none the less. "I-it was just after you ran off after hearing us up on the roof and I pulled your... Hrm! Well, just after that." he continued, blushing furiously as he recalled storming off after Motoko and trying to save her from a nasty fall, only to have his hand grab her panties, pulling them down. The view had been nice, no doubt about that, but it hadn't exactly helped to calm the distraught Motoko down.  
  
He rubbed his jaw, that Red Lotus Fist she pummeled him with as punishment had really been something! It wasn't a Naru-punch by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly showed that Motoko had some impressive skill in unarmed combat as well as armed combat.  
  
"A-any-anyway, she told me that she wanted you to defeat her. Well, you and me, actually. Though I don't know what she thinks I will be able to do against someone like her." Keitaro explained and shook his head. "Perhaps she's so scared of your true abilities, that she wants me around to hamper your fighting or something. Hehehe..." Keitaro added, attempting to add a little humor to the situation, but failed miserably as Motoko was still pale and staring at the floor. "Apparently, she believes that your history together and you happening upon her and her husband kissing, caused you to loose sight of your objective as a warrior. That the loss of your idol and teacher stunted your growth as a swordswoman." Keitaro finished, staring up at the roof as he recalled his conversation with Motoko's beautiful older sister.  
  
"She gave you, gave us, a choice, Motoko. Defeat her together and win back your status as a warrior, or you'll have to live forever as a 'normal' girl." Keitaro continued after taking a sip from his tea, looking over at Motoko who had at his latest revelation finally looked up from the ground, looking at him with hope shining in her eyes. "H-ho-however, there's... Something... Else..." he started and swallowed nervously, taking another sip from his cup. "If we don't fight her, or, if we l-loose... Then she want us to take responsibility for the lies we told her and... Gulp And... Swallow And... Cough Meaningthatshewantsmetotakeyouasmybride." Keitaro finished in a strained whisper.  
  
"That's... Impossible." Motoko sighed and the hope in her eyes died out. "My sister is... Invincible. She cannot be beaten. Not by me." she admitted and slumped forward, her gaze once again falling to the floor.  
  
"Motoko... This isn't you, this isn't the Motoko I know. You may have lost one battle, but that's no reason to give up. You never have before! No matter how many times you failed in the past, you kept at it until you succeeded, didn't you? Remember when you learned the secret of Zannma-Ken, Nino Tachi? Where's the perseverance you showed me then?" Keitaro retorted and Motoko looked up from the ground again. "Where's the Motoko who learned that trying too hard won't get you anywhere? Where's the Motoko that learned how to enjoy herself and succeed through that? Where's the Motoko who won't be defeated by anyone or anything?"  
  
Keitaro awkwardly scrambled up onto his foot and cast, then wobbled over towards Motoko and put his right hand on top of her head.  
  
"Your sister is waiting for you in Kyoto. What will it be, Motoko? Are you going to fight like the warrior you are, or will you live out the rest of your life as a normal girl?" Keitaro inquired.  
  
"I... But... This... I can't..." Motoko sighed. "My sword is broken." she whimpered and glanced over at a stand standing on top of a dresser, where her beloved sword rested in pieces.  
  
"Oh, that's right." Keitaro mumbled, then shambled over to the other side of the table where he picked up the odd walking stick he had been using earlier. He walked back to Motoko's side of the table and kneeled down on his unbroken leg, while his casted one was sticking out at an odd angle. "Here, Motoko. Please accept this gift and put it to good use." he said and solemnly held it out with both hands towards her.  
  
"What... What is..." Motoko started as she hesitantly accepted it, but stopped her inquiry as she felt the familiar weight in her hands. She reverently untied the strings and slowly unwrapped the brown paper, revealing a sheathed Katana. She stared down at the weapon in stunned silence. This sword was old and cared for, she could tell. The sheath had been lovingly polished until it reflected the light nearly as well as a mirror, the guard shone and sparkled as a beam of sunlight made it's way into the room and the handle had been recently rewrapped. "It's..."  
  
"It's an old Urashima family heirloom." Keitaro revealed. "I told my aunt about this and she took me down to the armory. Please, Motoko. Take it. Use it. We'll fight your sister and we'll win."  
  
"No..." Motoko replied, bowed her head and handed the weapon back to Keitaro. "It's too much. I'm not worthy. Not after what I did to you. I can't accept this gift, Urashima-donno." she declined and held the weapon out on both hands towards Keitaro, a tone of respect in her voice that had never been there before.  
  
"Don't say that, Motoko. You are worthy. You're a wonderful person." Keitaro assured her, only to see how she started to tremble and the sword fell to the ground with a noisy clatter.  
  
"Don't say... I'm..." Motoko whimpered, struggling against her tears, before she saw the sword on the ground. "Oh, I'm sorry! Forgive me! I didn't mean to drop it! I meant no disrespect, Urashima-donno." she said, her head bowed in shame.  
  
"Shh, I forgive you, Motoko." Keitaro said, plucking the sword up from the ground and placing it in Motoko's lap, holding it down as the girl tried to remove it from her person and hand it back to it's rightful owner.  
  
"Damn it..." Motoko whimpered under her breath. "Why are you... Why are you doing this to me..." she whispered and looked up at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve your kindness!" she wailed.  
  
"Yes. Oh yes, you do deserve my kindness, Motoko-san." Keitaro protested and once again placed his hand on top of her head, ruffling her hair. "You are a wonderful, wonderful, girl, Motoko. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently." he insisted.  
  
As his words sunk in, Motoko slumped forward and had to slam her hands against the floor to prevent herself from falling facedown against it. Her tears splattered against the floor and she started to sob out loud. /Damn it! Damn it! Why does he have to be so bloody... So bloody! So! So! So! So, Keitaro! I don't deserve this! I don't deserve to have somebody like him in my life!/ she mentally howled, then flinched as she felt him pull her up against him, wrapping his arms around her as she cried.  
  
She tried to pull away, but was too weak to accomplish it. After only a few moments, she stopped her struggles and wrapped her arms around him, crying against his chest.  
  
Keitaro whispered words of comfort to her, rubbing her back and caressing her hair as her sobs grew progressively worse. Her hands clutched the back of his T-shirt and before she knew it, her lips were on his and her tongue entered his mouth. She leaned against him and topped the both of them to the ground. The sudden pain in her hands, as their combined weight flattened them against the ground, made her snap out of it, however. She pulled back with a gasp at the realization of what she had done. She averted her eyes and whimpered at her own weakness.  
  
"I'm sorry, Keitaro-donno. I almost... Again, I almost..." She tried to apologize, but couldn't get the words out. /Damn it! Why am I so weak!? I owe him so much, so much that I can never... How could I almost do... Do... Do that again! Why?!/ she mentally wailed.  
  
"Shhh..." Keitaro attempted to soothe her. "It's okay..." he said and pulled her head down, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, before he put her head against his chest and shifted his weight, so she could pull her hands out from underneath him. "Shhh..." he repeated. She felt his hardness poking against her waist, but ignored it. Ordinarily, such a thing would have both distressed and disgusted her, but now she only felt apathy. It didn't matter. There were layers of cloth separating the two of them. It was of no concern to her.  
  
Mayhap it was of concern to him, though. She had finally managed to get through the first volume of 'Naughty Swordmaiden Minako' and clearly recalled one passage from it, a passage where the naughty swordmaiden had given one of the male characters something referred to as 'blue balls' due to her behavior. It appeared to cause the male a large amount of distress. Was she doing the same to Keitaro? Was he suffering from that very same condition now? Was she causing him undue distress?  
  
She flinched at that thought and hesitantly moved her left hand down, awkwardly starting to caress a now very hard piece of Keitaro's body through his trousers. He gasped and shuddered beneath her.  
  
"M-mo-motoko?" he stuttered. "Wha-w-what are you..." he started, but cut himself off with a moan.  
  
"I don't want you to suffer, Keitaro-donno. I'll... Swallow I'll take care of this for you." she mumbled, continuing to stroke him through his clothes. "If... If it's you, Keitaro-donno. It's okay with me." she added, stealing a line from the dirty manga.  
  
"B-but I don't want you to Moan regret... I don't want you to regret anything, Motoko." he protested and moved his hand down to intercept hers, gently grasping her wrist.  
  
"Anything you want, is okay with me, Keitaro-donno." she whispered. "I'll do... Anything you want." she managed to croak out in a strained tone of voice. "Please, let me do this for you..." she mumbled and moved her hand back, easily slipping out of his weak grip.  
  
This would be her penance, she decided. She would spend the rest of her life making up for what she had done to poor Keitaro. She would protect him, she would serve him, she would turn into what she hated the most, a weak simpering girl submissive to a mans every desire.  
  
"I... I am yours. Please, do with me what you want. I will Swallow follow your every command." Motoko admitted. "Keitaro-sama, I am yours." she finished, shedding silent tears against his chest and changing her mode of address to an even more respectful one.  
  
"M-m-m-my e-ev-e-every c-command?" Keitaro squeaked out.  
  
"Yes, Keitaro-sama. Your every command." she affirmed.  
  
"T-then..." he started and to her surprise, she felt him grab her wrist again and pull her hand away from what it had been doing. He took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a few moments, then slowly got them both up until they were sitting up again. She kneeling between his legs and silently awaiting whatever command he would have for her. "Then I want you to stop acting like this, Motoko." he finally said, causing her head to whip up and her gaze to lock onto his, with a shocked expression on her face. "I want the old Motoko back." he revealed and reached up with a hand to caress her cheek.  
  
"I want the Motoko who would yell at me for being a pervert, if I did something like this. I want the Motoko whom would never utter the words 'Keitaro-donno' or 'Keitaro-sama'. I want the strong, relentless Motoko, who wouldn't accept defeat at the hands of anyone. I want the Motoko who would fight with all her strength for what she believes in. I want the proud Motoko, I want the girl from a week ago." he explained. "I want my Motoko back." he finished and removed his hand from her cheek.  
  
"I... I can't..." Motoko protested.  
  
"Anything I want? My every command?" Keitaro gently reminded her. "You have my forgiveness, because there was never anything to forgive. Please, just do this one last thing for me. Become the Motoko of old again, fight your sister. Win!" he urged her on.  
  
"It's impossible..." Motoko whimpered.  
  
"Please. For me?" Keitaro countered and Motoko slumped again, hugging herself as she let out a low wail and one last sob. She shuddered for several seconds, before she let her arms fall down to her lap. She stared at the ground for several seconds, before her right arm rose and she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears out of her eyes. Then she looked up at him again, a weak smile on her lips and moisture in her eyes.  
  
"I-I'll try..." Motoko agreed. "For you, I'll try."  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	6. Six

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough[R]  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson  
  


Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...  
  
Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
  
Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as , more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above.  
  
"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV  
  


Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' 

  
  
"T-then..." he started and to her surprise, she felt him grab her wrist again and pull her hand away from what it had been doing. He took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a few moments, then slowly got them both up until they were sitting up again. She kneeling between his legs and silently awaiting whatever command he would have for her. "Then I want you to stop acting like this, Motoko." he finally said, causing her head to whip up and her gaze to lock onto his, with a shocked expression on her face. "I want the old Motoko back." he revealed and reached up with a hand to caress her cheek.  
  
"I want the Motoko who would yell at me for being a pervert, if I did something like this. I want the Motoko whom would never utter the words 'Keitaro-donno' or 'Keitaro-sama'. I want the strong, relentless Motoko, who wouldn't accept defeat at the hands of anyone. I want the Motoko who would fight with all her strength for what she believes in. I want the proud Motoko, I want the girl from a week ago." he explained. "I want my Motoko back." he finished and removed his hand from her cheek.  
  
"I... I can't..." Motoko protested.  
  
"Anything I want? My every command?" Keitaro gently reminded her. "You have my forgiveness, because there was never anything to forgive. Please, just do this one last thing for me. Become the Motoko of old again, fight your sister. Win!" he urged her on.  
  
"It's impossible..." Motoko whimpered.  
  
"Please. For me?" Keitaro countered and Motoko slumped again, hugging herself as she let out a low wail and one last sob. She shuddered for several seconds, before she let her arms fall down to her lap. She stared at the ground for several seconds, before her right arm rose and she used the back of her hand to wipe the tears out of her eyes. Then she looked up at him again, a weak smile on her lips and moisture in her eyes.  
  
"I-I'll try..." Motoko agreed. "For you, I'll try."  
  


Roll credits 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Chapter Six:

  
  
"I really appreciate you doing this for me, Keitaro. Especially with your injury." Kitsune said as the two of them moved a cupboard from one side of her room to the other.  
  
"No problem, Kitsune-san." Keitaro lied with a smile on his face. While he had learned how to walk around with his cast, having to lift and walk around with a heavy object wasn't exactly something he was looking forward to. He just hoped that his grip wouldn't slip and he'd drop his end of it onto his other foot. That was all he needed now, to have to go to Kyoto with two injuries.  
  
He had actually been in favor of leaving directly, but since Motoko had sounded somewhat hesitant about it when he asked her when she wanted to go, he hadn't voiced his opinion. Despite the fact that Motoko gave her word to try and get back to her usual self, she was failing at it. Badly.  
  
A day had passed since their conversation and he had yet to be beaten, threatened or coerced into anything by her. At breakfast, when he ran out of tea, she had refilled his cup for him before he even thought of reaching for the kettle.  
  
Thank the Kami that none of the others had noticed that. Such an unexpected act would likely have raised all sorts of inquiries and questions, that he likely wouldn't have a good answer for. And he wasn't at all certain just what Motoko would answer either, seeing as how distraught she actually was, even if she put up a pretty good front for the others. But he had learned to look through the front now, he knew what was really going on inside of her.  
  
And he was afraid.  
  
In her current state, Motoko stood no chance against her sister and he knew that no matter how good or bad his own state of mind was, it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference in the upcoming confrontation. Motoko would have to carry the lions share of the fight. He would, at best, be able to provide a certain amount of distraction that Motoko might be able to capitalize upon.  
  
Might, being the key word there.  
  
Keitaro personally thought that it was all too likely that he would be taken out of the fight in less then a second, well before he would even be able to cough up an attempt at distraction.  
  
Once the decision to go to Kyoto had been taken, they'd both left to train, heading into the woods behind Hinata Sou. For once, Keitaro found himself wishing that he had kept up with his studies in Kendo and Karate. His old teachers would cry their hearts out if they saw the miserable state he was in now. He had actually had a knack for Martial Arts, but had given it up shortly before his tenth birthday after overhearing his parents talking about how much of a strain his classes were putting on the family budget.  
  
He'd never said anything to either of them about it, he just lied and told them that he didn't think it was fun any longer and that he wanted to drop out. Seeing as how much it cost them, neither parent had argued very much about it and Keitaro had then been forced to seek cheaper entertainment elsewhere.  
  
He'd even had some training in the family style, before Aunt Haruka started travelling the world. But what few tidbits he recalled of that, where practically useless.  
  
Now, he had just three more days to train, then he would go to Kyoto with Motoko in order to fight her sister.  
  
Three days, to try and revive what skills he might once have possessed. Three days, to try and raise Motoko's spirits. Three days...  
  
Three days had never seemed so little time, as they did right now.  
  
And here he was, wasting his time by helping Kitsune rearranging her room.  
  
"So, where did you and Kendo girl sneak off to yesterday?" Kitsune inquired, interrupting his mental reverie.  
  
"Huh? Oh, she wanted a training dummy to try out a new technique upon." Keitaro absently responded, having thought up that excuse yesterday, just in case somebody would ask where the two of them had went together. "I guess she didn't have the cash to spare to buy them in bulk, so she forced me to participate, seeing as how I wouldn't break as easily." he added and after they put the cupboard down, he pulled the left sleeve of his sweater back, revealing several bruises from yesterdays practice.  
  
Motoko had been near tears, every time her bokken made contact with him. He had actually been forced to order her to fight seriously, as her performance at first had been miserable. She had hesitated, she had held back and aborted her attacks well before they were anywhere near him. He'd actually hit her several times, before he told her to get serious. But once she got somewhat serious, he never even came close to hitting her.  
  
If only he hadn't been forced to see that horribly distressed look on her face every time she struck him. It nearly broke his heart to see it.  
  
Then again, he had never ever fought so hard in order to avoid getting struck before. Avoiding causing Motoko emotional harm had made him make more of an effort then preventing physical harm to himself ever had.  
  
"Oh, poor baby." Kitsune exclaimed and strode over to him, gently taking his arm and putting her lips against a particularly nasty bruise, kissing it. "Do ya want onee-chan to kiss 'em and make it all better?" she purred, not waiting for his response before kissing another one.  
  
"Uh... No thanks, Kitsune." Keitaro awkwardly replied, pulling his arm away and taking two steps back from her. Was she getting all weird on him again?  
  
"Ah, I see. That's not where you want my lips, Keitaro." Kitsune purred with a hungry smile. "All right, let's see what we can do about that, then." she drawled with a sultry tone of voice, backing him up against a wall before pressing herself up against him, sealing her lips to his.  
  
"Mrrg! Kitsune!" Keitaro exclaimed as he pulled away from her, staring at her in shock. "What are you doing?!" he demanded to know.  
  
"I was prepared to loose you to Naru, Keitaro." Kitsune drawled, drawing circles on his chest with her right index finger. "I would have stepped aside for her. For her, I would do it. I wouldn't do it for anybody else." Kitsune explained and pulled in closer to him again, kissing his neck. "So, since Naru isn't in the running any more, I figured that I should make a move..." she purred, then moved up to kiss his lips again.  
  
"Since Naru isn't..." Keitaro started, before Kitsune was kissing him again. He wrenched his head away from her, closing his eyes and desperately trying to keep his heartrate, as well as a certain portion of his body, down. Kitsune was a very attractive girl, there was no denying that. Her actions had always gotten to him in a way that few others had. Not even Naru had ever managed to make him respond in such a primal way. Only Motoko had managed that, and she had to resort to much more extreme measures then Kitsune ever had in order for him to do so. "What... What do you mean, since Naru isn't in the running any more?" he asked.  
  
Kitsune was Naru's best friend. Had she... Said anything? Did Kitsune know something that he did not?  
  
"Oh, you don't fool me, Keitaro. First, you ask how to beg forgiveness for something you've done and then you don't respond to my advances... You got laid! And since Naru isn't around and probably wouldn't have slept with you even if she were, unless some sort of psychological miracle happened that enabled her to openly show her feelings, only one option remains. And I won't loose you to her without a fight, Keitaro. I won't..." Kitsune explained and capitalized on his shock from hearing that she knew that he was no longer a virgin, to yank his head back so that she could kiss him again.  
  
Keitaro moaned into her mouth, as one of her hands traveled lower, cupping his groin, before starting to stroke him through his clothes. His hands went down to cup her ass, caressing it for a brief moment, before he yanked her up into the air and spun around, slamming her into the wall. He used his body to pin her against the wall, his hands moving up to cup her face, as he ravaged her mouth.  
  
/Oh MY!/ Kitsune mentally groaned and Keitaro became the aggressor, leaving her in an entirely passive role. Her head ached somewhat from slamming into the wall like that, but the other sensations she was feeling at the moment blanked that out. /Definitively got laid.../ she absently thought as his right hand suddenly found her chest, trailing across both her ample mounds, caressing, pinching and kneading them in a possessive manner.  
  
Never before had he responded like this, he always panicked whenever she tried something. She didn't much care though, as his actions slowly put her beyond all rational thought. While his breastwork left a lot to desire, being clumsy, rough and forceful, his kisses more then made up for it. If she had even suspected that the shy, clumsy manager had been capable of kisses like this, she would have jumped him well before now.  
  
Not that she was doing all that much jumping at the moment, it was more or less the other way around.  
  
At least until Keitaro realized just what he was doing.  
  
"MMMmmmNO!" he exclaimed, pulling away from Kitsune, taking several steps backwards and dropping her to the floor as gravity reasserted itself once she was no longer pinned to the wall. She landed on her ass with a pained exclamation, as her legs had been loosely wrapped around Keitaro before he stepped away and she didn't manage to get them back underneath her in time to catch her fall. "Oh, Kami... No..." Keitaro whispered to himself. "Not again... Not again..." he muttered, shaking his head in denial.  
  
"Now why did you have to go ahead and do that. I was enjoying myself." Kitsune groused, rubbing her arse as she slowly got back onto her feet. "Now, where were we?" she asked, as she slithered over towards Keitaro with a hungry look on her eyes.  
  
"Sorry..." he started, but as he looked up and saw her approaching, he backed away from her, the process made slow by his injured leg. "No!" he protested, spun around and left the room running, little exclamations of pain accompanying every step he took on his injured leg.  
  
"Mouuuuu!" Kitsune exclaimed, pouting at the doorway, before she slammed the door shut and planted her ass on her futon, rubbing her behind with a pained expression as she discovered just how bad an idea it had been to sit down as carelessly as she had, right after being dropped to the floor. "Don't think you'll be getting off that easy, Keitaro..." she muttered and gently caressed her lips with her left hand. "Oh, no. You're not off the hook yet, not by a long shot..." she purred as she replayed that last kiss in her mind, her right hand moving from rubbing her rear posterior, to sneak down into her shorts on the other side.  
  
After those last couple of kisses, Kitsune felt a serious need to 'entertain' herself for a while. After that, she could begin to stalk her prey again. If Keitaro thought he could get her all hot'n bothered, then just leave, he had another thing coming.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Motoko. We're leaving for Kyoto. Now." Keitaro said as he stalked into the kitchen, a wild look in his eyes. Motoko looked up from her cup of tea, a silent question in her eyes. Sarah reacted badly to his demand, spluttering tea all over the table. Shinobu looked to be on the verge of fainting. Su and Mutsumi merely looked curious.  
  
"Kyoto? The Ronin and the Kendo Maniac?" Sarah exclaimed, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "What's going on, Ronin?"  
  
"S-s-s-se-s-sempai... Are you and Motoko-sempai... Eloping?" Shinobu whispered in a strained tone of voice.  
  
"Oh, my! How daring of the two of you." Mutsumi commented, a faint blush on her cheeks.  
  
"It's nothing like that!" Keitaro protested, wildly waving his arms and struggling against a blush of his own. "We're going there to fight her sister so that Motoko can become a warrior again!" he added by the way of explanation.  
  
"You? Fight? PFAH!" Sarah snorted, shaking her head in disbelief at the notion.  
  
"What's the rush, Keitaro? I wanted to play some with you today." Su commented, a sad look in her eyes as she gazed up at him.  
  
"We've only got four days to do it in. Three days to train and then we fight her on the fourth day." Keitaro revealed.  
  
"You can train here! Then you can play with me!" Su countered.  
  
"We were going to. But Kitsune has... She's... I need to get away from her." Keitaro commented, looking over his shoulders with a nervous look. "We can train at the dojo in Kyoto."  
  
"I will pack my things, Urashima-s... Urashima." Motoko said, finally speaking up. She hastily finished her tea, then rose and strode away, heading for her room.  
  
"Sempai... What happens if you don't defeat her?" Shinobu inquired nervously. "Why do you have to fight her at all?"  
  
"If we don't, or if we loose, Motoko will have to give up the sword forever. If we win, she can become a warrior again." Keitaro replied.  
  
"And why do you have to fight, Ronin?" Sarah demanded.  
  
"Her sister want us to take responsibility for lying to her about the two of us getting married, so she dragged me into the fight as well." Keitaro said, rubbing his left temple with a pained expression.  
  
"And if you two loose, you'll of course have to marry Motoko." Mutsumi added, calmly sipping from her tea.  
  
"WHAT?!" Sarah screamed.  
  
"WHAT?!" Su yelled.  
  
"W-W-WH-WHAT?!" Shinobu hollered.  
  
"WHAT? How did you know that?!" Keitaro shouted.  
  
"Tama-chan told me." Mutsumi unconcernedly revealed, absently patting the turtle perching on her left shoulder.  
  
"So you two are eloping?" Sarah asked.  
  
"It's not like that..." Keitaro protested, rubbing his temple again. This was turning out to be one miserable day for the live-in manager of the Hinata Sou.  
  
The End! ( For now... )  
  



	7. Seven

It's Not EnoughR   
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson 

Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards... 

Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine. 

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)   
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860 or through e-mail as , more stories are available at my nifty lil' site at or by clicking on my handle up above. 

"speech"   
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers   
/thoughts/   
/telepathy/   
translation   
soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV 

Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' 

"And if you two loose, you'll of course have to marry Motoko." Mutsumi added, calmly sipping from her tea. 

"WHAT?!" Sarah screamed. 

"WHAT?!" Su yelled. 

"W-W-WH-WHAT?!" Shinobu hollered. 

"WHAT? How did you know that?!" Keitaro shouted. 

"Tama-chan told me." Mutsumi unconcernedly revealed, absently patting the turtle perching on her left shoulder. 

"So you two are eloping?" Sarah asked. 

"It's not like that..." Keitaro protested, rubbing his temple again. This was turning out to be one miserable day for the live-in manager of the Hinata Sou. 

Roll credits 

* * *

Chapter Seven:

"Ahh!" Keitaro yelped, as he dropped his bokken, lost his balance and fell to the ground. 

"Urashima-sama!" Motoko cried out, dropping her own bokken and staggering forward, dropping to her knees and frantically grasping his hand, examining the wrist that she had struck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." she chanted, peering and suffusing his hand with her own reserves of Ki. 

It was a sensation he had gotten used to recently, probably more so then what was good for him in the long run. It was soothing, warm and whenever she did it, they were joined in some way that he found himself at a loss to describe. 

The best he could manage, was that it felt like floating in an ocean of Motoko. He could feel her, he could smell her, he could hear her thoughts and he experienced her emotions as his own. For those few moments, he felt as if all was right with the world, as if he'd reached a perfect state and wished that it would never end. 

Motoko had mentioned something about it being a secret Shinmei Ryu healing technique, only used by the Aoyama family. When he asked about it, he had found out that it was also one that Motoko hadn't completely mastered and was forbidden from using. In fact, she wasn't even allowed to train in its use, without supervision from someone in her family that had already mastered it. 

Ever since he had started his training, she had begun to use it on him, hoping to accelerate the rate at which his leg was healing. It was also used to promote the rapid healing of the injuries that he received during their training sessions. 

He was beginning to gain a faint understanding of just why this technique might have become forbidden. It was addictive as hell! 

"I'm okay, Motoko." Keitaro informed her. "It just surprised me, I lost focus and tripped, that's all." he explained. 

"I'm sorry, Urashima-sama." she said, tears in her eyes. 

"Keitaro, Motoko. Keitaro." he insisted. 

"I'm sorry, Ur... Keitaro." she apologised again and he sighed. What he wouldn't give to be able to go back to the days when she would smack him around much worse then this, and never even consider offering up an apology for it. 

"It's okay, Motoko. In fact, it's great. How am I ever supposed to learn, if you won't fight seriously?" he inquired and slowly got back onto his feet, with her aid. He was getting better and better at managing without the crutches, but some things were still hard as hell, especially as tired as he felt at this very moment. While the healing took the edge off it for a while, they had been training for several hours straight now and he was nearing his limit. 

In fact, he had probably crossed his limit quite some time ago, which might explain the mistake he had made and his exaggerated reaction to being smacked on the hand for the opening his mistake had caused. Motoko had held back, so the blow was nowhere near as bad as it could have been, but she had still reacted as if he'd just received a lethal injury. 

"I... I don't know if I can do this, Keitaro." Motoko confessed, slumping forward and her gaze falling upon the ground in front of her knees. 

"I have full confidence in you, Motoko." Keitaro lied. "With you by my side, there's no way we can loose to your sister." he added. 

"There's no need to lie, Keitaro-dono. I'm a wreck." Motoko gently chided him, the closest she had come to disagreeing with him for several days. He also noted with displeasure that the '-dono' suffix had made a return, which it often did whenever these days. Ah well, at least she hadn't regressed back to 'Urashima-sama'. "We don't stand a chance." she concluded. 

"If you keep thinking like that, we most likely will." Keitaro agreed after a few moments. He hesitated for a while, wanting to put one of his arms across her shoulders and pull her in close, hoping to offer some measure of comfort. But he thought better of it. It would probably just bring confusion, rather then any measure of comfort. 

In the end, he settled for putting one hand on one of her shoulders. 

"You are the strongest person I've ever met, Motoko. If you put your mind to it, there's nothing you can't do." Keitaro insisted, turning her to face him. "We still have one more day to practise. It's not over yet, so don't behave as if we've already lost." 

"We can't..." she begun, then sighed and offered up a faint fake smile, the best she could do at the moment. "I'll try." 

"That's all I'm asking." he replied, knowing that it was a much tougher task then he made it sound as. For someone as broken as Motoko was at the moment, it was a miracle that she didn't spend her days curled up in a foetal position. 

"I'm sorry, for dragging you into all this, Keitaro-dono." Motoko said. "If it wasn't for me lying to my sister... You wouldn't have to marry me." 

/Try harder.../ Keitaro mentally sighed. Hadn't she just promised him that she would try, then in the next moment all but admitted that she didn't believe that they would win. 

"I did my fair share of lying too." Keitaro stated, then offered up a weak grin. "Besides... Being married to you wouldn't... Be all that... Bad." he said. "In fact, I think... I wouldn't look at that as any sort of loss. I would be honoured to have you as my wife." 

Motoko mumbled something in response to that, but Keitaro couldn't quite make it out. He thought he'd heard something about 'dishonour', but not the context in which it had been uttered.

* * *

"Good morning, brother-in-law." Tsuruko greeted Keitaro, who managed to restrain his response to a slight flinch. The woman was impossible, no matter what time he retreated to the bath, Tsuruko managed to join him. Last night, he'd slept for a few hours, then taken his bath at half past two in the morning, only for Tsuruko to join him no more then five minutes into his bath. So, she either had to take a lot of baths over the course of a day or she stalked him in order to take hers at the same time he did. 

"Morning, Aoyama-san." Keitaro replied, made sure his towel was firmly wrapped around his waist and stood up, moving over to the overturned bucket where Tsuruko had seated herself. Not only did she join him in the baths, but she also insisted on washing his back and having hers washed in return. He had managed to do his own already, but figured that he might as well get up to wash hers, as she would no doubt ask for his assistance in a matter of minutes anyway. 

"Today is the day, huh?" Tsuruko inquired happily, as Keitaro started washing her back. 

"Yes." Keitaro responded tiredly, not at all looking forward to the impeding confrontation. Motoko was still a wreck, both during practise and otherwise. He had faint hopes that her anger at her sister might allow her to fight better against her, but he couldn't be entirely sure of that. Whenever Motoko was confronted with Tsuruko ever since they arrived in Kyoto, she didn't act all that much less despondently then she did around him. It wasn't looking good, at all. 

"Will you honour the agreement, brother-in-law?" Tsuruko suddenly inquired. "Should the two of you loose, will you marry my sister?" 

"I gave my word, did I not?" Keitaro responded, suppressing a faint hint of anger. Was she doubting him? Did she think that he was some sort of honourless cur who gave and broke promises without a second thought? 

"Yes, I guess you did, at that." Tsuruko agreed and sighed. "I am... Sorry about all this, manager-san. I had not expected my sister to take this quite as hard as she did, I thought it would merely spur her into greater enthusiasm. Fan the recently merely smouldering flames of her passion back to their former glory. But instead, she..." Tsuruko began, then trailed off and sighed again. "I am sorry." she finished. 

"Can't you do something about it?!" Keitaro asked, a little bit more forcefully then he had originally intended. "Have a heart! Can't you see that this is killing her?" 

"Of course I can see that!" Tsuruko snapped, shrugging away from him, hunching forward and clenching her fists. "It was bad enough when I came to Hinata Sou, so I thought... I... I thought wrong. I'm sorry for snapping at you, you're not the one who did anything wrong." she said, causing Keitaro to flinch. 

He had most certainly done something wrong. He had taken advantage of Motoko when she was down and low, bringing her even lower once she realised what he had done to her. Hell, she even tried to claim responsibility for what had happened herself. Yet he knew, that if he'd only been a little stronger, a little more firm, she would still be a virgin. 

"I thought that I could make her stronger, more like her former self." Tsuruko pondered out loud. "Make her stand up for herself, instead of just run away from her issues. Instead... Instead, I broke her." she lamented, slowly wrapping a towel around her torso before standing up. "Thank you, brother-in-law." she absently said to him, before strolling into the warm waters of the outdoors bath, where Keitaro joined her after a bit of hesitation. 

He usually tried to get away, though it didn't do him any good, as Tsuruko had managed to persuade him to stay every single time so far. But now, the discussion revolved around a topic near and dear to his heart, so he didn't try to get away, for fear of missing out on an opportunity. 

"So why keep on pressuring her? Why not just drop it, let her back into the school?" Keitaro inquired. 

"You take offence when I ask if you are going to keep your word, then expect me to go back on mine?" Tsuruko gently berated him. "No, I'm afraid that I cannot. You two will beat me, or you will be wed." 

"We can try, but... Surely you must realise that Motoko isn't in a fit state for a fight right now? Can't you give us more time, at least? More time for her to regain her confidence?" Keitaro requested. 

"I truly am sorry, brother-in-law." Tsuruko apologised. "This is not how I envisioned that this would work out at all, but my hands are tied now." she explained and chuckled darkly, wiping a few stray tears away from the corners of her eyes. "I can't even throw the fight. Motoko-han would never accept that." 

Keitaro pondered that statement for a while, before deciding that perhaps Tsuruko was right about that. The old Motoko would never accept something like that. He wasn't all that sure about the new Motoko, however. But even if the new Motoko would accept winning a thrown fight, that was hardly the way to go about getting the old Motoko back, as that went against what the old Motoko believed in. 

"I guess not." Keitaro sighed, despondently lowering himself into the soothing waters. 

"How is your leg? It appears to have improved much, since I saw you back at the Hinata Sou." Tsuruko commented, before smiling. "Motoko-han wouldn't be using any forbidden techniques on you, now would she?" she asked, winking at Keitaro. 

"O-of course not, Aoyama-san!" Keitaro hastily exclaimed, chuckling nervously and scratching the back of his head. 

"No, of course not." Tsuruko agreed, then winked again. "If she was, hypothetically speaking of course, I would have to admonish her severely for such a thing. The technique is deceptively dangerous." 

"Dangerous, how? Hypothetically speaking, of course." Keitaro countered. 

"The technique I'm thinking about, has addictive qualities. Not only that, but it also gradually establishes a sort of symbiotic relationship between the practitioner and the targeted individual. Nothing inappropriate for a married couple, but should the two of you actually win, it could lead to some problems down the line. If the two of you were actually making use out of it, of course." Tsuruko explained. 

"Problems?" Keitaro asked with a faint nervous giggle. 

"A mutual physical and mental dependency can form between practitioner and receiver. Sleeping without the other within reach can be troubling or even impossible, depending on the severity of the symbiotic relationship. The two parties will find themselves reluctant to make decisions without first consulting the other, somewhat of a bother to someone wanting to take, oh, say the Todai exam, for instance. A reluctance to feed without the other nearby. Impotence or infertility, without the other around. And that is just when the technique is performed correctly, the bond can be even deeper if it's not." Tsuruko explained. "Like I said, nothing major to a married couple, but should the two of you win, it could become most troublesome. So, it's a good thing that Motoko-han hasn't been doing anything of the sort." 

"Yes. Very. Good." Keitaro managed to get out. /Impotence?! Infertility?!/ he mentally exclaimed. While he certainly hadn't planned on getting children anytime soon, being robbed of that opportunity irked him somewhat. And while his chances of getting laid anytime soon seemed abysmal at best, to not be able to perform should the opportunity arise... That scared him shitless!

* * *

".... aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAA..." 

"Hm, that girlish squeal sounds sort of familiar." Naru mused out loud, lowering her camera in order to listen to the odd sound from up above. 

"...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH-GCK-OUMPHF!" 

THUD 

"Oh, hello, Keitaro." Naru said absently, turning away from him for a moment, before her eyes opened wide and she swung her head back towards him. "Keitaro! What are you doing here?!" she demanded to know. 

"Mot-mo-m...." he grunted. 

"Motoko-chan? Yikes, what did you do?!" Naru exclaimed, wondering just how perverted he had to have behaved if Motoko had managed to launch him all the way from Hinata to Kyoto. 

"... aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..." 

At the second squeal, this slightly less girlish then the first, Naru directed her attention upwards, wondering if Keitaro had teamed up with his two moronic friends and done something spectacularly perverted. 

"... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" 

Which was why she became so surprised when she noticed that the second rapidly descending human to fall from the skies was Motoko herself! Keitaro managed to stagger to his feet and positioned himself, allowing Motoko to thud straight into him, knocking them both groaning to the ground in a tangle of limbs. 

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow." Keitaro chanted, before weakly raising his head. "Motoko? You okay?" he asked. 

"It-te-te-te-te!" she responded, before slowly raising herself into a semi-upright position, pulling him up onto his feet. "I have not received any permanent injuries." she declared after a few moments. "Are you unharmed, Keitaro-dono?" she asked, worriedly looking Keitaro up and down. 

"Keitaro-dono?" Naru muttered under her breath, her eyelids twitching as she observed the two of them leaning on each other for support. 

"More or less." Keitaro grunted out in response. "Nothing broken that already wasn't." 

"Keitaro? Motoko? What is going on?" Naru inquired, as the two quite obviously hadn't really noticed her yet. Both of them spun around on the spot, their eyes widening as they saw her. 

"N-n-n-n-na-n-n-Narusegawa!" Keitaro exclaimed, taking a few steps back. 

"Naru-sempai!" Motoko exclaimed and emulated Keitaro's back-pedalling, only slightly less visibly shocked then Keitaro was. "What are you doing here?" 

"What am I... What are you two doing here?!" Naru countered. "What happened? You fell from the sky. Both of you!" That Keitaro had wasn't at all surprising, but she had certainly not expected Motoko to join him in a treck across the skyline. Was she working on some new technique or something? 

"Giving up so soon, you two?" Tsuruko interjected, standing on top of the wall around the Aoyama estates, her bared sword resting lightly on her right shoulder. "With those kind of skills, you'll never beat me." 

"Never!" Keitaro exclaimed, shaking a fist at the older woman. "We'll beat you yet, just you wait!" 

"All right, you two. Just WHAT is going on here?!" Naru demanded. "Why are you fighting Tsuruko-san?" she added, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Keitaro. "It's not because of something perverted, is it?" she asked suspiciously. 

"N-n-n-n-no, Narusegawa!" Keitaro stuttered. "If we win, Motoko can become a warrior again." he hastily added, as he saw that Naru was about to pop a gasket. 

Or two. 

Or three, possibly more. 

"Oh. That's good, I guess." she responded, glancing over at Tsuruko. "Can you?" she asked, somewhat intimidated by the older woman. 

"We're trying." Keitaro replied evasively. 

"Ah, Narusegawa-san." Tsuruko asked, jumping down off the wall, landing gracefully next to Naru. "Have you come to assist these two in their attempts to defeat me? You are most welcome, if that is the case." 

"Ah, no. I'm on a trip with my discussion group." Naru responded, gesturing at a group of shocked students a ways off, who weren't quite so used to see people dropping from the skies or jumping off walls as she was. 

"Well, you would be welcome to join them none the less. Currently, they aren't giving me much of a challenge." Tsuruko assured Naru, then smiled somewhat evilly. "As long as you're willing to accept the same penalties, of course." she added with a toothy grin. 

"Uh, penalties?" Naru responded nervously, taking a few steps back. "No, no thanks. What penalties?" 

"If Motoko-han and manager-san doesn't manage to defeat me by nightfall, they will be wed to each other." Tsuruko responded serenely, the evil smile having vanished without a trace. 

"Oh, is that it! I thought it would be something more li..." Naru said, trailing off with a stunned expression. "They will be... What?" she asked, glaring over at the shivering Keitaro and clearly nervous Motoko, who both avoided her scathing glare. 

"Wed!" Tsuruko exclaimed. "Isn't it wonderful? My Motoko-han is getting married!" Tsuruko gushed, stars in her eyes. 

"Yeah, wonderful..." Naru agreed, putting her fingers in her mouth and mock-gagging as Tsuruko turned away for a split second. She plastered a fake smile on her face, turning towards her two friends. "Well, I hope the two of you will be very happy together." 

"N-Narusegawa... This isn't..." Keitaro started. 

"What it looks like?" Naru retorted. "So, you aren't going to marry Motoko after you've been soundly defeated by Tsuruko-san?" 

"Well... I guess... If we do loose... Then... Then, I'll marry Motoko." Keitaro responded after a moment of hesitation. "But we're not going to loose! We'll win!" he enthused, though Naru noticed that Motoko didn't look at all confident of that. In fact, she seemed as miserable as if she had already lost. Naru didn't recognise her friend at all, Motoko seemed absolutely crushed. 

As well she should be, if she had a marriage with Keitaro hanging over her head like some sort of Damocles Sword! 

Naru would also be upset, if that were the case! 

Well, perhaps not all that upset, if she were to be truly honest with herself. But she would be somewhat ticked, that was for sure! While she could admit to herself, at least on occasion, that Keitaro wasn't all that bad, sometimes even downright adorable, she wouldn't want to be forced into a marriage with him! Even if it would probably be rather nice... 

/No! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts!/ Naru mentally berated herself. /He's a perverted Ronin. He isn't cute. I don't find his kind mannerisms at all attractive!/ she told herself, though her mental persuasion didn't manage to properly convince herself of that. 

"Would you like to stay and observe the proceedings, Narusegawa-san?" Tsuruko inquired. "Even if you do not wish to take part in the fight, mayhap you would like to observe the fight and see the two of them get married later?" 

"We haven't lost yet!" Keitaro blustered. 

"Nor have you two come close to even landing a single hit." Tsuruko argued. "Unless that changes, the two of you will be married before the end of the day." 

"Haiyaaaaaa!" Keitaro cried out and threw himself at Tsuruko, while Motoko made a flanking manoeuvre. However, Tsuruko merely flippantly swished her sword in a wide half-circle with a negligent gesture, summoning a gale-force wind that threw the two of them off their feet, while Naru's hair wasn't even ruffled, though she was standing only an arm-length away from them. 

"Tsk. Sloppy." Tsuruko gently berated them. "Coming, Narusegawa-san? I have some truly excellent tea just waiting to be brewed. We can trade embarrassing stories about Motoko-han and you can tell me all about future brother-in-law, over a nice cup of tea!" 

"Motoko?" Keitaro mumbled, staring up at the sky after Narusegawa had been pulled away by an insistent Tsuruko. 

"Yes, Keitaro-dono?" Motoko answered, lying next to him, unwilling to move just yet. 

"Have your sister ever lost a fight?" he asked. 

"Not since she turned nine and defeated the previous Grandmaster of the Shinmei Ryu." Motoko replied. 

"Oh. Great." Keitaro grunted, closing his eyes. Then he remembered something from his childhood, remembered training with Haruka and Hina. A straight out assault was obviously not going to work, but there were other ways to go about defeating Tsuruko...

The End! ( For now... )


	8. Eight

Love Hina - It's Not Enough 

It's Not Enough R  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson 

Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...

Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine.  
If the layout looks screwy or symbols seems to be missing, you're probably reading the quickedit-mangled version of this fic on ff dot net, if it grates on your nerves too much, read it on my site or something.

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860, MSN Messenger/E-mail as iamhawk at yahoo dot com, though not very frequently as real life lately interferes with my online existance more then I'd like. More stories are available at my nifty lil' site loccated at hawksgalaxy dot com or by clicking on my handle up above.

"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+

Previously, on 'It's Not Enough' 

"Motoko?" Keitaro mumbled, staring up at the sky after Narusegawa had been pulled away by an insistent Tsuruko.

"Yes, Keitaro-dono?" Motoko answered, lying next to him, unwilling to move just yet.

"Have your sister ever lost a fight?" he asked.

"Not since she turned nine and defeated the previous Grandmaster of the Shinmei Ryu." Motoko replied.

"Oh. Great." Keitaro grunted, closing his eyes. Then he remembered something from his childhood, remembered training with Haruka and Hina. A straight out assault was obviously not going to work, but there were other ways to go about defeating Tsuruko...

Roll credits 

* * *

Chapter Eight:

"Urashima Secret Technique: Underwater Walk Attack!" the twin voices of Keitaro and Motoko cried out, scaring the hell out of Naru as they burst out of the water, waving bare blades at her, coming to a stunned halt in front of her.

"What are you..." Naru started, not even noticing that she was as bare as the day she was born. Her eyes were wide open as she stared at the odd pair, dressed all in black and holding swords directed at her. Her heart was beating at least a mile a minute and for a few moments, it felt as if it had been about to make a break and jump straight out of her chest.

"Heh? Narusegawa? Where's Tsuruko?" Keitaro inquired, then noticed Naru's state of dress. Or undress, as it were. "Gack! Sorry! I-I-I-I d-didn't mean to..." he exclaimed, stumbling backwards and pinching his nose shut. Naru blinked, then looked down, realizing just what had gotten his boxers in a bind.

"Keiiiiitarooooo!" she growled, clenching her fists in righteous anger. "You perveeeeeeert!" she bellowed, dashing towards him, only to see Motoko grab hold of him and pull him along with her as she sprinted away, leaving a very surprised and very naked Naru standing in the bath, looking towards the departing wannabe ninja duo with droplets of hot water slowly trickling their way down her body, dripping down into the pool. "What was that all about?" Naru muttered as she stalked back to her former seat, grumbling some very uncomplimentary things about Keitaro as she hastily wrapped up her bath. The unexpected scare had rather drastically reminded her that she needed to visit the little girls room.

Which she did.

It wasn't quite the relaxing and relieving visit she had expected, however.

"Prepare to taste steel, older sister!" Motoko shouted, kicking the door down and rushing in with her sword raised. Keitaro crept up by her side with a blade of his own, only to come to a complete stop as they saw Naru sitting on the porcelain throne with a completely flabbergasted expression on her bright scarlet face.

"What are you... GASP! GET OUT OF HERE, YOU PERVERTS!" Naru shouted, waving her fists angrily although she didn't dare move from where she was currently sitting.

"Uh, we are sorry, Naru-sempai..." Motoko croaked, walking backwards, dragging a paralyzed Keitaro along with her.

Naru huffed and puffed in silence for a few moments, glaring furiously at the broken door lying on the floor in front of her. With a sulphurous oath that could have made a seasoned sailor cringe, she grabbed some paper and hastily wiped herself off before pulling her panties back up and flushing the toilet. She was far from finished, but she was not about to do her business with the door open when anyone could just walk on by.

Nor was she about to use any of the other facilities in the complex, as it seemed that Keitaro and Motoko were on some sort of violent and perverted rampage. Their unexpected appearance as she was in mid-pee had spooked her too much to do her business in the bathroom. So she had grabbed some paper and withdrawn to the garden, hoping for a little privacy there while the two morons stalked the house, looking for Tsuruko.

"Honestly, those two are driving me insane..." Naru muttered, stalking through the Aoyama garden, squatting down behind a hedge that offered her some privacy and concealed her from sight. "AAAAAAH!" she screamed, as the hedge suddenly moved, sprouting two arms holding a sword raised.

"Sorry, Tsuruko-san! But this is the end of your reign of terror!" Keitaro's voice hollered from inside the sword-waving hedge segment.

"Prepare to taste defeat, older sister!" Motoko's voice added, as another segment of the hedge leapt out towards Naru, also sprouting sword-wielding arms.

"I'm not Tsuruko!" Naru protested in a shrill roar and the two green cubes came to a stop. Naru looked at them, her eyes blazing with fury and if looks had temperature, hers would have set the disguised morons on fire within a tenth of a second. They looked ridiculous, two square green cubes with legs and arms, packing swords. Suddenly, two heads poked out from the greenery and paled as they saw Naru's expression.

"Uh..." Keitaro started, then apparently thought better of it and both of them ran, scattering leaves from their camouflage in their wake.

"All right, you two! Just what is going on here!" Naru demanded, after having chased down the two loons. All three of them were panting after a long and frantic run, Keitaro was sporting a fresh bump on the back of his head. Naru had been unable to run them down, but a well-aimed slipper had bowled Keitaro over and when he had rolled to a stop, Motoko had stopped running and tended to the fallen Keitaro, much to Naru's surprise.

Obviously whatever Keitaro had must be contagious, as she had never known Motoko to act as stupidly and strangely as she had been doing lately.

"I'm sorry, Narusegawa." Keitaro apologised, whimpering as Motoko dabbed at a cut from his recent tumble with a wad of alcohol-drenched cotton she'd brought out.

"As am I, Naru-sempai." Motoko added distractedly, more focused on tending to Keitaro's injuries.

"What in the world were you thinking, challenging Tsuruko to a fight?" Naru asked, looking suspiciously between Keitaro and Motoko. This whole situation was seriously creeping her out and she wondered just what had been going on since she left the Hinata Sou that she hadn't been told about.

"Well, ah... She challenged us, actually. It was the only way she would reinstate Motoko into the Shinmei Ryu. When we beat her, Motoko will be reinstated and allowed to stay at the Hinata Sou." Keitaro replied, scratching the back of his head. "I believe we still have a chance to defeat her sister in the final battle! I'm not of much help, but I'll do my best. Heck, Su even gave me some special inventions! We'll win!"

"Yeah, riiiiiiiiiiight..." Naru drawled, glancing at Keitaro with a sceptical look, shaking her head in disbelief. "You, an injured person who can't even go to classes. ... Though you do look, and run, surprisingly well considering... Shouldn't you be a in a cast for quite a while yet?" she inquired, only now noticing that Keitaro wasn't using the crutches any longer and that the cast was off. He was wearing some sort of athletic support, but the cast was nowhere to be seen. "Isn't this just some sort of perverted scheme of yours that you fooled Tsuruko into going along with, just so you could land yourself a pretty young wife?"

"NO!" Keitaro vehemently protested. "I wouldn't do a thing like that, Narusegawa! I'd never force anyone to marry me against their will!" he insisted.

"Well, perhaps not..." Naru reluctantly agreed, as she found that notion far-fetched and ill fitting with Keitaro's kind personality. "But I don't see you protesting too hard against her terms either!" she hastily added.

"What good would that do me?" Keitaro asked with a frustrated expression, shuddering at the thought of the evil looks Tsuruko occasionally gave off. It was as if she was two completely different persons! Perhaps she was manic-depressive or something? Serene-homicidal, perhaps? Was there even such a term? "It's better to focus on training and getting better, so we have a chance of beating her. Though the odds are against us, we will do our best and win. Then all three of us can go back to the Hinata Sou, together."

"What about you, Motoko? What do you say about all this? I can see that you're upset about it." Naru said, looking with concern at her troubled friend.

"We will fight. Then we shall see." she replied neutrally and evasively.

"But if you loose, you'll be married to Keitaro!" Naru exclaimed. "I can see where this moron might not have anything against it, but you?"

"Should we continue to loose, I shall marry Keitaro-dono if he so wishes. If he does not wish for me as his wife, I shall end my own miserable existence and release him from his promise, rather then dishonour him and force him into a marriage with someone as unworthy as me." Motoko answered, stunning Naru into silence and causing Keitaro's jaw to drop. /So, this was what she had in mind/ he thought angrily. He had suspected that there was something that she wasn't telling him, that she was planning something stupid. But he had no idea of just how incredibly stupid things she had been pondering!

"Motoko-chan. You will NOT kill yourself, no matter what the circumstances." he ordered in a voice so firm that it could shatter steel and with an expression on his face so determined that both girls flinched back from him.

"If that is your will, Urashima-sama." Motoko weakly replied as she assumed a very submissive posture, unable to even meet his gaze.

"It is." Keitaro agreed. "And I told you to stop with that -sama and -dono business! Urashima, if you can bring yourself to call me that. Keitaro if you can't!"

"'Kill yourself'? 'Urashima-sama'?" Naru breathed in a hoarse croak, before her eyes narrowed. "Keitaro! What have you done to Motoko!" she demanded.

"He has done nothing!" Motoko suddenly snapped, displaying some of her former fire as she glared furiously at Naru. Even if Keitaro found it odd not to be the target of that glare for once and he wished that it hadn't been directed at Naru either, it felt good to see at least some semblance of Motoko's former self making an appearance. "Nothing! Nothing except show me far greater mercy then I deserve and shown himself to possess far greater honour then I could ever hope to match!" she added and shed a few tears. "I am not worthy, I'm not even worthy to breathe the same air as he does." she finished with self-loathing oozing from every word she spoke.

Keitaro had never seen anyone who seemed to harbour a desire to crawl out of their own skin as much as Motoko seemed to want at the moment, never seen anyone so incredibly uncomfortable with themselves and disgusted by what they were. It was very nearly enough to break his heart, to see the formerly so strong Motoko behave like this.

"Motoko! Stop it." Keitaro interjected, stepping between the two girls. "You are a fine, honourable young woman and I don't ever want to hear you say differently."

"How can you say that, Urashima-sama? How can you say that after I raped you like that?" she demanded, causing Naru to gasp in horror and Keitaro to pale in fear. "I proved myself to be a far more perverted and awful excuse for a human being then I ever even suspected you to be. All those groundless accusations, all that abuse, raping you and you still forgave me for it! I do not deserve that, I don't! I wish you'd just let me end it all!" she sobbed, as Keitaro started regaining some colour as fear was drowned out by another strong emotion.

"Motoko. Shut up." Keitaro growled, growing increasingly frustrated and angry with her extremely foolish suicidal tendencies. "I told you, you will not fucking kill yourself! If you do, I will follow in your foolish footsteps. Is that what you want? To kill the both of us?"

"No, Urashima-sa..." Motoko started to respond submissively, but was cut off before she could finish her reply.

"And if you say Urashima-sama one more time, I'll pull you over my lap and give you such a solid thrashing that I'll be in danger of injuring my own bloody hand!" Keitaro snapped, driven well past the limits of his almost infinite patience and kindness. The abuse against him had always been one thing, but he wouldn't stand for anyone abusing any of the girls at the Hinata Sou, not even the girls themselves!

And Motoko's growing listlessness was simply killing him. She'd managed well enough for a while after the incident, but he'd noticed that the more she thought about it, the worse she got. And after their talk, when he'd given her the sword... She'd really gone downhill from then, that idiotic promise to obey him in everything... That was not something a sane person would have come up with.

"Raped..." Naru repeated in a stunned whisper, her wooden glare swivelling back and forth between Keitaro and Motoko with a shocked and anguished expression on her face. "Keitaro... Motoko... What... What..." she muttered, unable to form a correct question.

Keitaro looked over at her with a pained expression, then down at his clock before he let out a frustrated growl, glaring accusingly up at the skies above, as if they were personally responsible for the situation.

"We'll explain later, I promise. For now... For now, we've only got two hours left to defeat Tsuruko in before the deadline is up." Keitaro announced, looking back at the main building with a resigned expression on his face and a frustrated note in his voice.

"You've got fifteen minutes left. Wanna take one last shot at it or should we move on to exchanging wows?" Tsuruko inquired tauntingly, while cringing inwardly. Teasing and taunting had managed to spur Motoko on, somewhat. But she still preformed well below her usual level of competence, not anywhere near enough to actually pose a threat to her. Keitaro didn't make one iota of difference. He came up with a surprising move or two, but preformed them clumsily. For a fighter of her level, he didn't even manage to provide enough of a distraction to give Motoko a chance to pull something, not in her current state anyway.

Now their allotted time was nearly up, and Motoko still hadn't pulled herself together. Things had gone entirely too far. Oh, how she regretted her careless words now! Her younger sister was a miserable wreck and it was all her fault. She was the one who had driven her sister to this, she was the one who had turned the formerly so vibrant young woman into the depressed wreck who opposed her now.

Heck, her sister had been so out of it that she hadn't even noticed that she was carrying a cursed sword with her. Or perhaps she had, Tsuruko had thought that there had been a slightly disappointed glimmer in Motoko's eyes as Tsuruko announced that the blade was cursed and that they needed to seal it. Had Motoko wanted to get possessed by the spirit in the blade?

She didn't know who her sister was any longer. Judging from what little she'd managed to get out of Urashima during their talks, she'd deduced that her sister wanted to commit suicide, so perhaps voluntary possession wasn't that far-fetched a notion.

Motoko was simply lying on her back, looking listlessly up at the skies, Tsuruko wasn't even sure if her younger sister had heard what she said. Keitaro slowly got back onto his feet and picked up his own blade from the ground, staggering over towards Motoko.

"Motoko-chan? You all right?" he asked and this Motoko did notice.

"Yes, Urashima-sa..." she started but blanched and stopped talking. Tsuruko blinked at the sudden apprehensive look Motoko conveyed, but as she couldn't see Keitaro's face from where she was standing, she never understood the reason for it. "Yes, Keitaro." Motoko responded.

"Come on then. We're not out for the count yet." Keitaro said and held out a hand towards Motoko, who accepted it and hastily got back onto her feet, dusting herself off.

This was another thing Tsuruko failed to understand. Her sister had never been good in dealing with males, in fact, she'd almost seemed terrified of the gender as a whole. Why was she suddenly so deferential to Keitaro? It was almost as if Motoko believed that the sun rose and set with Keitaro. She didn't think it was love, however. This was something different, something entirely different.

Tsuruko's eyes narrowed as her gaze fell across the Hina Blade that Motoko had supposedly been given by Keitaro. Was that it? Did Motoko consider herself indebted to Keitaro for the gift of the sword? Probably, but Tsuruko couldn't shake off the feeling that something else was wrong, even if she couldn't pin-point exactly what that was. If only Motoko would talk to her about it!

Tsuruko had never felt so frustrated in her entire life and she knew that she had nobody but herself to blame for it. If she hadn't overreacted and acted to bloody foolishly, none of this would be happening.

Not for the first time, she contemplated throwing the fight, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Besides, just like Keitaro, she didn't think that was the correct way to bring back the old Motoko, even if she had been able to throw the fight.

So when Keitaro and Motoko made their final assault, Tsuruko glanced sadly over at the silent observer of the fight, Narusegawa Naru, before she returned her attention to the two fighters hurling themselves towards her.

"Shinmei Ryu secret technique, Aoyama family speciality: Wrath of the heavens." she mumbled under her breath and reached out to her surroundings. Ki shot out from her own body and set the Chi all around her into motion, the ground rumbled as Yang Chi in immense amounts were set into motion far beneath the surface. A sudden chill fell over the entire compound as she directed vast amounts of Yin Chi from the air itself to gather in a nexus ten feet above the ground.

She shifted the grip on her sword, raised it up and abruptly thrust it downwards into the ground. She released a burst of her own Ki into the ground and another towards the nexus, causing the Chi she had gathered to react rather violently. Bolts of energy suddenly shot up from the ground, heading for the nexus in the air, while other bolts of energy shot out from the nexus, towards the ground.

Catching Motoko and Keitaro right in the middle of a deadly crossfire of lightening bolts.

Or what would have been a deadly crossfire, had Tsuruko actually gone all out.

As it was, it was enough to knock them both unconscious without causing them any lasting injuries.

"You loose..." Tsuruko whispered in a strained voice, then turned around, let her sword drop to the ground and then collapsed onto her knees, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she succumbed to her guilt-riddled grief.

The End! ( For now... )


	9. Nine

It's Not Enough R  
Niklas "Hawk" Jonsson

Summary: In Volume 9 of the manga, Motoko looses the battle against her sister and decides to live as an ordinary woman, only to have the denizens of Hinata Sou belittle her efforts without knowing that she overhears them. Motoko runs away and Keitaro goes after her. After Keitaro finally stumbles across Motoko wet and miserable in the streets, he takes her home and treats her to hot chocolate in his room. During the events that follows, she breaks down and Keitaro has to attach a multitude of clothespins to his head in order to prevent himself from getting too intimate with Motoko. In this fic, he never gets his hand on those damnable pins and things deviates from the manga from that point onwards...

Disclaimer: Love Hina, Hinata Sou and whatnot are not mine, though I certainly wish they were. The story is mine though, all mine. This story deals with some very unpleasant things. If this disturbs you, don't read.  
If the layout looks screwy or symbols seems to be missing, you're probably reading the quickedit-mangled version of this fic on ff dot net, if it grates on your nerves too much, read it on hawksgalaxy dot com or something.

Feedback/Flames: Yes, please. Both of them are equally fun to read, although I must admit that I greatly prefer the first variety. :)  
I can be found on ICQ as 21771860, MSN Messenger/E-mail as iamhawk at yahoo dot com, though not very frequently as real life lately interferes with my online existance more then I'd like. More stories are available at my nifty lil' site at hawksgalaxy dot com or by clicking on my handle up above.

"speech"  
emphasis/shouts/Kindred Domination/post-hypnotic triggers  
/thoughts/  
/telepathy/  
translation  
+soundeffect/radio/telephone conversation/TV+

Previously, on 'It's Not Enough'

So when Keitaro and Motoko made their final assault, Tsuruko glanced sadly over at the silent observer of the fight, Narusegawa Naru, before she returned her attention to the two fighters hurling themselves towards her.

"Shinmei Ryu secret technique, Aoyama family speciality: Wrath of the heavens." she mumbled under her breath and reached out to her surroundings. Ki shot out from her own body and set the Chi all around her into motion, the ground rumbled as Yang Chi in immense amounts were set into motion far beneath the surface. A sudden chill fell over the entire compound as she directed vast amounts of Yin Chi from the air itself to gather in a nexus ten feet above the ground.

She shifted the grip on her sword, raised it up and abruptly thrust it downwards into the ground. She released a burst of her own Ki into the ground and another towards the nexus, causing the Chi she had gathered to react rather violently. Bolts of energy suddenly shot up from the ground, heading for the nexus in the air, while other bolts of energy shot out from the nexus, towards the ground.

Catching Motoko and Keitaro right in the middle of a deadly crossfire of lightening bolts.

Or what would have been a deadly crossfire, had Tsuruko actually gone all out.

As it was, it was enough to knock them both unconscious without causing them any lasting injuries.

"You loose..." Tsuruko whispered in a strained voice, then turned around, let her sword drop to the ground and then collapsed onto her knees, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she succumbed to her guilt-riddled grief.

Roll credits

* * *

Chapter Nine:

"Owie..." Keitaro whined under his breath as he forced his eyelids to obey his command to lift. It took a couple of seconds, but he eventually did manage it. He stared up at the skies for a few moments, before he shifted his gaze to his left, where he spotted a crying Tsuruko kneeling on the ground, facing away from him.

/Oh, yeah. The fight.../ Keitaro recalled and shifted his gaze to his right, spotting Motoko lying beside him. He slowly moved his arm over and gently grasped her jaw, shifting her head around until she was facing him. He sighed and released her haggard face, she was out cold, not reacting in the faintest to his touch.

That freaky lightening attack had obviously been too much for Motoko after their gruelling day. He was made of sterner stuff, however. After having been exposed to so many of Kaolla's weird inventions, the girls various attacks and having endured all sorts of pain, including electrical, he'd managed to cling on to consciousness where Motoko had blacked out. He raised his arm and glanced at his watch. He still had another three minutes before the gig was up.

He made a silent inventory of himself, flexing muscles and covertly trying to move his limbs. He hurt all over, but nothing seemed to be broken. Not even the leg that had been out of commission before Motoko started using her healing technique on him. He could still move. He could still fight.

He slowly turned around and forced himself up onto his feet, pushing with all his strength until he was upright once again. He slowly bent down and gently removed the formerly cursed sword from Motoko's right hand. He took a deep breath and straightened up, focusing on the still crying Tsuruko. Narusegawa was standing a bit off, a surprised expression on her face as she silently observed him. He felt a pang in his heart as he saw her, but forced himself to focus entirely on Tsuruko.

What he planned to do now was far from honourable, but at the moment he couldn't care less about that. He couldn't allow himself to loose this battle, not when so much was at stake. He took a faltering step forwards and winced as his body protested against having to move again by fresh jolts of ever increasing pain. There were three minutes left, but he didn't think that he would be capable of movement for all those three minutes. He would have to end this fast or it really would be all over.

He took another step and took a deep silent breath, carefully sneaking up on Tsuruko. He removed his left hand from the hilt of the sword and nearly dropped it because of that. He silently cursed his weakness and forced his right hand to raise the sword a bit more, as not to drop it just yet.

He moved his left hand down to the leather pouch hanging from his belt and fumbled around in it, finding one of the grenades Kaolla had provided for him. His thumb hesitated over a small switch on the grenade for a few moments, but he forced himself to move his thumb, shifting the small gauge all the way from 'Smoke' to a setting that didn't even have a name, just the weird three-eyed symbol Kaolla liked to adorn all her inventions with.

He'd used a couple of them during the fight, but only on the lower settings. Smoke hadn't helped at all, Flash-bang had provided some distraction for Tsuruko, but Motoko had been distracted as well, rendering that particular setting useless. The lower explosive settings hadn't done much either, as Tsuruko either completely avoided the blasts or knocked the grenades away before they blew up.

She didn't seem to be in any condition to do so now, however.

He pulled the pin and instantly lobbed the grenade towards the crying Tsuruko.

The moment it landed next to her, she jerked and leapt backwards after just a moment of hesitation.

But that was a moment too long.

+KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM+

"Argh!" Tsuruko cried out as she was caught up in the shock-wave and thrown even further backwards then she had attempted to leap. She dropped her sword and crashed to the ground, rolling around and passing by Keitaro who spun around and darted after the fallen Aoyama, shifting his grip on the sword to a two-handed one. "Brother-in-law!" she exclaimed with a shocked tone of voice as she ended her roll on her feet in a low crouch, just barely managing to dive out of the way as Keitaro took a swing at her.

She yelped in pain as she dived aside and Keitaro felt a tremendous amount of guilt as he saw a tear in her pants, a tear that revealed torn bleeding skin on her right thigh. He had caused that, he had inflicted pain upon another human being and a girl at that.

/For Motoko-chan/ he screamed mentally and pressed on, taking another swing at the injured Aoyama although every atom in his body was screaming at him to drop the sword and help the injured older girl. /Motoko-chan! For Motoko! Motoko-chan/ he chanted inside his mind as he forced his aching body to move.

"You're dead on your feet, brother-in-law." Tsuruko panted a minute later, when Keitaro had run out of steam and stood panting, using the sword to support himself. /Not that I'm any better off.../ she silently admitted. She could just barely use her right leg and every move she did, caused waves of pain to course through it. It was just pure strength of will that allowed her to use it at all. It had slowed her down so much that Keitaro had actually landed a few glancing hits during his wild charge. A tendril of blood was creeping down her left arm, from a wound just below the shoulder. A small cut had been made across her stomach from a nasty slash she hadn't managed to step back from quickly enough. Her forehead was similarly marked and half her bangs had been lopped off.

With her injured leg, she hadn't been quick enough to retrieve her sword either, so she was currently unarmed.

"Just give up, brother-in-law. I admire your persistence and dedication, but this fight is over." she added. He took a deep breath then looked down at his watch.

"I still have one and a half minute." he argued and took another deep breath, before he raised the sword again.

"You won't last even half that time." Tsuruko stated, desperately cursing herself for having lost focus before the fight was over. Her mind was all over the place and while she could feel the tantalizing hints of Ki and Chi just on the edge of her awareness, she wasn't centred enough to make use out of them. She needed a while longer for that, but it didn't appear as if Keitaro would give her time to collect herself.

"Probably. So, all the more reason to use what little time I have left to the fullest!" he exclaimed and launched himself at her again with a wild swing that she easily dodged out of the way of, only to grunt in surprise as he dropped the sword and threw himself bodily at her, bringing them both to the ground.

/Big mistake, brother-in-law/ Tsuruko mentally exclaimed as she brought her left knee up into his groin, believing the fight to have been concluded with that.

What she hadn't counted on, was Keitaro's persistence and resistance to pain.

The knee didn't even slow him down and he instantly retaliated by slamming his forehead into Tsuruko's surprised face.

Tsuruko screamed in pain as she felt her nose shattering, but gave as good as she got by slamming her right elbow into the side of Keitaro's face, before she pulled back and slammed her fist into his ribs. Keitaro grunted in pain, but still pressed on, responding by a nasty left hook to Tsuruko's face. She got him in the stomach with a short right uppercut and landed a left hook at his liver, to which Keitaro responded by grabbing her throat.

Tsuruko gargled as his grip tightened and she lost the ability to breathe. For a few seconds, she lost her cool and frantically pushed against his chest with her right hand and clawed at his hands with her left, before she realized the futility of her actions.

"This fight is... Over!" she managed to spit out, then slammed both her hands into his lower ribs in a simultaneous attack, pulled back, punched him in the throat with her left and grabbed his private parts with her right. Keitaro convulsed in pain, but amazingly enough didn't let go of her throat. She pushed off with her left leg and arm, yanking at him as hard as she could with her right hand, reversing their positions so that she was now on top. With a final double punch at his solar plexus, she tore herself away and landed on her ass between his legs, forcing fresh air into her lungs with deep frantic breaths.

"Not! Yet!" Keitaro gargled as he pushed off from the ground, slamming a straight right into her face. She fell onto her back, but fiercely responded with a double kick, that launched him back onto his back. She howled with pain as she finally felt her right leg give out on her, but pushed that aside. She spun and turned around in the same motion, pushed herself somewhat off the ground and yanked herself back down, slamming her left elbow into Keitaro's stomach, causing him to cough up a spray of blood as he finally collapsed, not even his incredible stamina and steely determination able to keep him moving any longer.

Tsuruko collapsed on his stomach, taking deep breaths as she listened to his erratic heart-beats.

She slowly turned her head around, smearing his dirty t-shirt with blood that was freely flowing from her broken nose and cut on her forehead, silently observing the face of the man whom had nearly managed to defeat her. He had finally lost consciousness, but Tsuruko could feel determination still oozing off him. A few moments later, she could feel it in a more physical manner, as he attempted to strangle her again.

She slapped his hands away and crawled away from him, gasping in shock as she observed his arms moving, trying to seek her out to wrest victory away from her even while he was unconscious.

"For... Motoko..." he grunted out, spraying blood over his face, before his body stopped moving, his arms falling down to the ground as he finally ran entirely out of steam.

"Naru... Segawa." Tsuruko slurred, looking over at their silent spectator, who looked physically ill, just moments away from throwing up. "Hand me that bag." she requested, nodding over at a leather satchel on the ground not too far away from Naru.

A few minutes later after the generous application of a few traditional Aoyama potions, salves and powers, Tsuruko had gotten back onto her feet and started treating her fallen sister and future brother-in-law. She still hurt like hell and she would probably have to go to a hospital to get her nose fixed, but first priority was taking care of the others.

She cursed her arrogance, she had actually believed that she would walk away from all of this without injuries, even if she had prepared supplies in case Motoko and Keitaro were injured. If she hadn't been so arrogant, she would have asked a couple of her fellow practitioners to attend in case of emergencies. But the others were off for the traditional two-week retreat to Hokkaido, leaving her to tend to the compound.

It appeared as if Motoko wasn't the only one who had some growing left to do, Tsuruko sourly reasoned as she tended to the other injured fighters.

"Are... Are they going to be all right?" Narusegawa asked.

"Motoko's injuries are mostly Ki and Chi inflicted. The salve I put on will help and she can cleanse herself of the rest when she wakes up. She'll be a little sore and very hungry tomorrow morning, but otherwise mostly okay." Tsuruko replied, hating how odd her voice sounded with a broken nose. "Keitaro... He'll be all right too, but it'll take a while." she added after a few moments.

Physical injuries were harder to heal then spiritual ones. Other then in some really special cases, none of which were applicable at the moment.

"And you?" Naru inquired.

"Keitaro got me good, but I'll be all right. ... Eventually." Tsuruko admitted.

"What happens now?" Naru asked apprehensively.

"What must." Tsuruko responded gravely and sighed, wishing that it didn't have to be this way and that there were some miraculous way to get them out this horrible mess she'd made of things.

* * *

"Hidy-ho, Hinata Sou!" Kitsune chirped as she answered the phone.

+Good evening, Konno-san.+ an unfamiliar voice greeted her from the other end and Kitsune frowned as she tried to put a name to the unfamiliar female voice.

"Eh, hello?" Kitsune eventually blurted out. "Who is this?" she asked.

+Aoyama Tsuruko, Motoko's sister.+ Tsuruko responded on the other end and Kitsune blinked. /What the hell/

"Do you have a cold, Tsuruko?" Kitsune asked in utter bewilderment. It sounded nothing at all like Tsuruko.

+No. I have a broken nose.+ Motoko's sister responded tersely after a few moments of silence.

"Motoko broke your nose!" Kitsune exclaimed and shook her head. "Yikes. I guess you lost, huh?" she asked and exhaled with relief. Ever since she had gone downstairs and heard about what Motoko and Keitaro was up to, she had been worried about the outcome of the fight. But it seemed as if the two of them had pulled through after all.

It had also put a whole different spin on things and opened up another possibility. She had first assumed that it was Mutsumi who Keitaro had gotten down and dirty with. But perhaps she had been mistaken. Though she wondered just what the heck could have made Motoko of all people to allow Keitaro between her muscled legs. It sounded so outrageously out there that it boggled the mind.

But that would somewhat explain just why Motoko had acted so oddly lately.

Though the chances of that ever happening were so incredibly low, that she still mostly assumed that it was Mutsumi who had finally gotten lucky. Motoko could have gone off the deep end due to loosing the fight and having to give up the sword.

+No. I did not and she didn't.+ Tsuruko eventually replied, causing Kitsune to gasp.

"You... Won? They lost?" Kitsune asked and felt a shiver run through her entire body. She knew that she should have pushed harder for all of them to go to Kyoto, or if the others had still insisted on staying, then at the very least have gone there by herself, despite Shinobu's condition. "Wait, wait. Motoko didn't break your nose? Then... Keitaro!"

+Yes, on both accounts.+ Tsuruko admitted. +This is why I am calling. I'm sorry for the lack of warning, but you and the other girls are invited to the wedding which will be held tomorrow. Narusegawa has already been informed.+ she continued and Kitsune gasped again, stunned to silence. +Konno-san+ Tsuruko asked after nearly a minute of astonished silence.

"I'll tell the others." Kitsune breathed and then hung up, staring straight ahead in shock. She stood up from the couch and staggered over towards the kitchen, where Su was cooking under Shinobu's and Haruka's watchful eyes. Shinobu had taken the news of the upcoming fight and what would come from a loss in it rather badly, but at least she wasn't bedridden anymore.

Though Kitsune was worried about how she'd take the news, there wasn't any question about keeping silent about it. The others deserved to know what would happen tomorrow.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Haruka announced in a dead-pan voice as Kitsune entered the kitchen.

"That was Tsuruko on the phone." Kitsune stated, ignoring Haruka's comment. "Keitaro and Motoko lost. The wedding is tomorrow. I'm going to go pack." she said and walked out of the kitchen, accompanied by a shocked gasp from Shinobu, Haruka dropping her cigarette and Su shouting as she just barely managed to leap aside before the dropped wok landed on her right foot.

Things had just gotten even more complicated then before.

The End! ( For now... )


End file.
